


A Second Contract

by CommissarDredd



Category: Persona 5, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-01-26 23:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 75,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21382729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommissarDredd/pseuds/CommissarDredd
Summary: With the fall of Yaldabaoth Joker has been taken. His new home strange and different, but so similar as to tease his memory of his friends. Surrounded by heroes and villains he searches for a way to find his family in the strange land. He must make friends, break promises, and betray everyone he knows to get what he wants. But that's how it goes, isn't it? After all, everyone hates a thief, right?
Relationships: Jirou Kyouka & Persona 5 Protaganist
Comments: 228
Kudos: 614
Collections: Quality Persona Fics





	1. The Death Of a God

Gods are one of the few beings who are truly incomprehensible. They do what they do because they know it is right, at least as far as they believe to be. Akira Kurusu was unaware of this however, he simply knew that he was either going to die, or kill the cursed god in front of him. He stood upon a tower made of what felt like broken bodies that towered over Shibuya like a demented version of the tower of babel. All around him were the broken bodies of his team. Makoto with a hole in her head from the gun the Yaldabaoth had drawn. Yusuke a bloodied mess by Haru's ax after the god took control of her. Haru had been right behind him, bisected by a broad swipe from the massive sword the damned god carried. Ann and Morgana bad both been fried by lightning, scorched bodies flying from the building. Ryuji was still there, though not for long. A bright arrow of light speared through his gut, pinning him to the ground as his final death rattles sounded. Now it was only Akira and his adopted sister, her persona holding her safely away from the fight. The ghostly form of Arsene levitated behind Akira, the chains strapping him down flying through the air. There was another crack from the gun held on an arm far too spindly to carry its weight and Prometheus, Futaba's persona evaporated. There was no scream as Akira felt another bond shatter, and no cries of anger or sadness as he heard the body of his adopted sister hit the ground.

Instead, the calm fire of pure hatred burned beneath golden eyes as he looked to the massive god in front of him. It stood taller than most buildings, and its voice seemed to shake the world itself. "So, the trickster has indeed failed. I find this a pity, you were most entertaining." Akira glared at the god, before his hand shot out like a snake, grabbing one of Arsene's chains and holding it firmly. He didn't know what he was doing, but it felt right. It felt... perfect. He pulled the chain hard, shattering the dark blue chain and feeling Arsene fade into nothing behind him. There was a tense silence as the whole city fell into quiet desperation. The cheers of fear and support fading from the city that had heard their last hopes fall one by one. Yaldabaoth spoke again, sounding smug despite the lack of inflection in his voice. "So, the trickster fails its final task. A pity, if any being could have-"

It stopped as the clouds began to break, a large hole appearing as a massive figure began to descend. It was all black, with white horns and a silver mask. A red ribbon sat on its waist as it slowly descended, each beat of all six wings slowing its descent. In its hand sat a large lever-action pistol. It reached the ground, so tall that it was on the same level as Yaldabaoth. The demented god spoke, a desperate tint in its voice as it tried to play off the newest development. "You're friends lay dead Trickster! Are you so cocky to believe that you alone can slay a god!? That a being which can unmake all of creation will fall before your blade?!"

Akira shook his head, before drawing a pistol from his waistcoat. A large .50 caliber monster that he slowly raised to eye-level. The creature behind him followed suit, the lever-action pointing at the head of Yaldabaoth. No noise sounded until a small cheer sounded from the city streets far below them. Akira didn't recognize them, they could burn for what they did to his team, but they would come later. Instead, he stared at Yaldabaoth's mask, slowly pulling the trigger. "Satanael. Pillage him."

The voice of Satanael was deep, almost seductive. "Long have I wanted the blood of a god. Sinful Shell!" Both guns fired, and the head of Yaldabaoth shattered like glass, the mask of the god of control broken and hollow. Akira heard him saying something but ignored it as he fell to his knees. A high pitched voice sounded from behind him, drawing his attention from the dying words of the god he killed.

"I do apologize, even I didn't see an outcome where you won that was so dark. Perhaps I can help though. Would you accept a final contract?" Akira turned, finding the true Igor, long nose and spindly limbs standing behind him. He raised an eyebrow but felt his head nod. Igor clapped his hands. "Excellent, let us go and discuss a few terms then." A translucent prison cell appeared from the ground, and as the tower began to crumble and collapse, Akira Kurusu walked in.


	2. Three People, One Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby steps

Eraserhead, known to his friends as Aizawa Shouta, was a patient man. He had been on two-day-long stakeouts multiple times in his career and never faltered. Not even for a moment. However, he found that his latest case was a much harder task. Mostly because he had absolutely no idea how to approach the stranger who was supposed to be his newest informant. The trench-coated teenager was laying down on a lamppost, eating pineapple pieces straight from a can. Eraserhead stared as the youth kicked his designer shoes back and forth from his perch, humming a song as another slice of pineapple was popped into his mouth. Eraserhead knew he had time before he was spotted, so he flexed his legs slightly, lowering his stance as he began memorizing everything about his informant.

From his relaxed perch, he could see the teen in his entirety, a grey vest over a black dress shirt, black pants, all of which seemed to be of the highest quality. The canned pineapples, however, were not. They were the cheapest brand available, and as such offered a hint that his informant wasn’t as well off as his attire suggested. He was kicking one leg back and forth as he pulled out his phone, opening an app and typing with one hand. When the teen put it down Eraserhead felt a small vibration from his pocket and frowned. It could have been a coincidence, but the wink the teen sent his way afterward told him it wasn’t. He sighed and jumped, landing smoothly beside the post. “So, my informant is some little kid?”

The kid rolled off the light and landed softly, tossing the now empty can in a nearby trash can. “Well of course. In the big bad underworld, who notices the snot-nosed kid running their packages?”

Eraserhead grimaced at that, the kid was the same age as his students. He should be focusing on his studies, not working with criminals.. “So, assuming I still want a kid that should be in school as my informant, what do you have for me.”

The teen rolled his eyes. “Yes, introductions ARE important Eraserhead, I’m Joker. A pleasure to meet you.”

The hero glared at the youth in front of him before sighing. “Look, kid. You’re new to the game, so let me make this clear. We don’t know each other. You give me info, I give you money or favors. Once we leave, we never saw each other, and if I see you doing something illegal, I take you down. Make sense?”

Joker smirked, running a hand through his hair. “Calm down, you’re not exactly Shido over there, we can be civil with each other.”

Aizawa paused for a moment. “Shido? That’s an interesting person to reference.” Eraserhead shook the small case at his side. “He’s a really obscure figure in history, what type of teenager knows a politician from right before the rise of quirks?” He took a step forward, dropping the case beside his foot. He crossed his arms, not letting any emotion sneak through his face. “Especially when the same teenager seems to be adopting the name of one of the proto-heroes that theoretically took him down.”

Joker paused, looking deep into Eraserheads eyes. “So, Shido was real? I’ll admit it was a desperate gamble, but...” He ran his hand on his chin, looking to the city street as he lost himself for a moment. “I never imagined the world would be so strange...” Eraserhead let the kid think for a moment before clearing his throat, making the kid jump in place. “Sorry, lost in thought for a moment. Let’s get back on track.” He pulled a thumb drive from his pocket and spun it on his fingertip. “On this little beauty I have the name and quirks of several villains working together, and a few photos of their meetings. I’m willing to give all this info to you for 90,000 yen, with an additional request.”

Eraserhead grunted, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a pretty low price for a possible group of villains working together. I won’t give any info on pro-heroes.”

Joker laughed. “Of course not, you’re far too much of a white night to sell out a friend for a lead. If I wanted to do some morally grey deals I’d try to hunt down Hawks. He seems the type to do the greater-good spiel.” Joker cracked his neck, tossing the thumb drive underhand. Eraserhead caught it in one hand without breaking eye contact. Joker smirked, his eyes flashing red as he looked around the area. “Well, all I want to know is one thing.” He leaned forward, placing both his hands inside his pockets. “Does the name Yaldabaoth ring any bells for you?”

Eraserhead’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and Joker let out an open-mouthed smile as soon as it happened, and he leaned back. “He does, then I suppose I can bite the bullet and start digging up old records. I might find what I’m looking for.” The teen stretched out his hand. “The money if you please.”

Eraserhead grunted, picking up the case and opening it a crack. He pulled out nine bundles of bills, placing them on the ground before turning around. “Y’know kid, if you’re in any trouble, I can help. Just remember that I’m a hero; I’m paid to help brats like you.”

Joker laughed, walking up and picking up the money without answering. Ten minutes later, the street was empty, only a small card on the ground left of the meeting. And if you were paying attention, you’d see a teenager in a grey jacket walking around the corner that led to Kamino.

He didn’t walk quickly, nor slowly. He had been in rough neighborhoods before, and knew the trick to keeping safe in the worst areas of Japan. Square your shoulders and stand tall, look like you belong, and act like your thrift store clothes were name brand and pristine. He saw a group of thugs that nodded to him as he passed, a gesture he returned easily as he walked towards his destination. There was a bar that proudly proclaimed it’s closed status, with boarded-up windows and a surprisingly nice door. 

The teenager stopped, running a bare hand over the wood and smirked. He reached into his pocket, pulling a mask and placing it over the small domino mask already on his face. It covered the other fully, the red beak of the crow mask poking forward as he opened the door without a worry in his mind. A figure of mist stood behind the counter, cleaning a small shot glass, both yellow eyes seeming to shift to him as soon as the door opened. He walked to the barstool and sat down. “Give me some sake and a milkshake, per my contact’s recommendation.”

The bartender nodded, moving quickly behind his counter. A small glass of sake slid in front of him quickly, which he quickly downed. He shook his head, feeling the alcohol spread through his body quickly. He smiled and leaned back. As the misty bartender pulled an ice cream scoop out of nowhere, the boy leaned over the bar. “Kurogiri I presume? I’m here on an info hunt, and I was told you might be the one to talk to.” 

Kurogiri paused, before continuing easily. “Most of the things I know are far too sensitive to share with an underaged kid who blindly accepted drinks from a closed-down bar in Kamino.”

The teen laughed and watched with sharp grey eyes. “I’m Ren Amamiya, or Crow depending on if you prefer a simpler alias. And I don’t want anything too serious.” He reached into his jacket, pulling a small folder from its depths. “Oracle industries, leading tech producer and one of the oldest technology companies in Japan today. Founded before the dawn of quirks and one of the few multinational companies to survive the upheaval afterward.” A milkshake hit the bar in front of him, and Ren smiled. “Thank you. As I was saying, most records that weren’t fairly common knowledge was lost, especially when the EMP hero Disconnect accidentally broke down most global systems and forced us to rebuild most of society.” Ren took a small sip of the milkshake and sighed. It was heavenly, which was ironic considering what he knew about this host. “I want the name of the founder of Oracle industries. I’m prepared to pay fifty-thousand yen for this little piece of trivia, with a promise that I have very little plans for what to do with the information.”

There was a pause, Kurogiri staring at his guest with both of his ethereal eyes. After a moment, he nodded. “I may have a contact who can find the information, but money is of no use to us.”

Ren groaned, leaning back while holding onto the bar to keep from falling. “Damnit, I knew that Grey-haired bastard was right. I should know that shifty guy with gold teeth was going to shoot straight. After all, he wanted repeat business.” Ren put his head down on the table, before sighing. “Okay, so how about barter. I know you guys are recruiting for a big attack on something somewhere. So I’ll join it. Follow your plan and be of use, and you give me what I want.”

Kurogiri was silent, and the only sound in the bar was the slurping of Ren’s milkshake. There was a small click from nearby that made Ren look up, a television that was off was now turned on. He stared at it for a few seconds before a voice crackled out from the old speakers. “Such an interesting young one, who comes into our den all alone with a simple request and more money than it would probably cost. I think we have an interesting one here Kurogiri.”

Ren smirked at the TV, raising his glass to it. “Well, glad to meet the man in charge. So does that mean we have a deal? Or should I just hope I can leave before someone tries to kill me?” His eyes flashed red behind his mask, and his head slightly turned to a portion of the wall behind a table in the corner. His eyes traced a small path to a wall socket beside it before he smiled. “Actually, better plan. I’m going to leave you a phone number. It can be called from four to seven on weekdays. If you think I’ll be worth the effort to recruit, then call me.” He slipped a small scrap of paper from his pocket and wrote down a number to a burner phone that he normally kept without a battery in it before placing the paper on the bar. “No need to show me the way out, I can leave myself.”

He got up, but as he did a wall of black fog appeared around the door, and the TV chuckled. “What made you think we were giving you options today? No, you interest me, so until I decide if you’re worth keeping alive, you’re staying right here.” Ren began to shake slightly, backing towards a table and slipping. When he fell, his hand shot to the wall socket, slamming it back as the hidden button was hit. The wall behind him opened. With a stylish roll as his back hit the ground, he passed through the door and looked around. He was in a small alley filled with trash and detritus. He smiled into the bar and bowed, fixing his mask from its slightly crooked fall. “I don’t think so.” He waved as he turned. “Well, call me!” He jumped to the left as another wall of fog appeared, and tore into the night as he ripped off his hoodie. In two blocks he no longer wore a hoodie, but a black-haired teenager with a domino mask was walking down the street towards Musutafu at a light jog.

Midoriya Izuku stumbled as he walked home from Dagobah beach. His arms were little more than wet noodles from hauling garbage, but he was almost done. Maybe one or two more days, and he would have finished All Might’s training and be ready for the UA entrance exams. He sighed as he massaged his aching muscles and stumbled from the momentary pause in focus. He winced as the ground approached at high speed until a hand shot out and caught him by the chest, holding him up with a single arm. “Hey kid, watch your step, it sucks to fall down after a workout.” 

Midoriya jumped up, taking a few steps away from the stranger who caught him, lowering his head. “S-sorry. I stopped paying attention and lost my footing.”

He expected an annoyed response, or maybe a dismissive one. What he didn’t expect was the lighthearted laugh that came from his savior. “No problem kid. I’ve tripped up more times than I’d like to admit walking home from the gym.” Midoriya looked up to see his newest acquaintance and nearly flinched back. Kind grey eyes looked back from behind a domino mask, a semi-formal sports jacket worn over a white shirt on a lean build. The man stepped back, smiling wide while straightening out his well-fit jeans and fancy shoes.

Midoriya straightened up, trying and failing to smile back at the stranger. “Thank you sir, I’m Midoriya Izuku.”

The stranger smirked, holding out his hand. “And I’m Akira Kurusu. You live around here kid?”

Midoriya flinched slightly. Mostly due to being called kid when he was fairly certain this guy was maybe a year or two older than him. “Er, y-yes. I live a few blocks from here.”

The man nodded. “Cool, then in repayment can you help me out. I live somewhere around here now but I appear to have taken a wrong turn. Too used to Yongen-Jaya I think.”

Izuku smiled a bit at that. “Of course, do you know the street name, or maybe the area?” 

The man smiled back. “Yeah, 1617 Ashsnake St. I’ve only just moved in.” Akira laughed, running a hand through his fluffy black hair. “The movers have probably already cleared out, so hopefully I have a bed tonight.” He let out a soft chuckle.

Izuku ignored the chill that ran up his spine, instead focusing on the much more important information on the city. “Oh, that’s the same building I live in! We can head there now!” 

Akira’s smirk stayed steady as Izuku walked in front of him, only after Izuku rushed a bit ahead to lead Akira to the address did the smirk fall, replaced by a straight line as his thoughts began to speed up. Izuku started talking to him, and grunts and the occasional response were good enough to keep the kid talking as he began cataloging every piece of info about his new neighbor. He was short, and maybe a year or two younger than him, happily talking about quirks of various heroes while leading him through the city streets like an experienced guide. The kid’s steps were steady and confident, a large disparity from his speaking, which was a stuttering mess.

He focused back in on the conversation when everything about Izuku was committed to memory. “Anyways, even if he doesn’t have an offensive quirk Eraserhead is a great underground hero. What about you, what’s your quirk?”

Akira blinked, glad he tuned in at the right moment. He may have only been here for a few weeks, but he had learned what a quirk was, and how his “quirk” worked. His eyes flashed red. “It’s called Third Eye. When I use it I can see noteworthy items, loose goods, dangerous people, anything my mind thinks is important.” He talked even as his vision drifted to Izuku. He was wreathed in yellow light. Hidden under his mask, his eyebrow went up. Most people he met on the street were blue, showing they would be a fairly easy fight. While several heroes he had seen had been yellow, but most people couldn’t keep up with his experience. This kid was learning, and though still blue at the edges, he could probably hold his own, even if only for a little bit. As they approached the apartment with Izuku going on about the possible uses of his quirk, Akira couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle. He had almost no clue where he was or how anything worked, his only source of income relied on a black market contact he met by pure luck, and his only goal was to find information about a world that died a long time ago. It felt like another palace. And the Phantom Thieves never failed to clear a palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Mystik Owl for editing!


	3. First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker may be alone and a thief, but he still has to know the neighborhood, right. He totally isn't looking for trouble.

He had just been looking through his new neighborhood. He was trying to make sure he wasn’t going to get lost again, and doing it in costume by jumping rooftops was just more fun. He wasn’t trying to save people again, honest. Just because he had spent the last year fighting evil didn’t mean he was addicted, but when he glanced down and saw a mugging in progress, he couldn’t just leave it be, right?

Joker jumped down from the rooftop, rolling as he hit the ground in front of three young men holding a young girl at knifepoint. He rolled smoothly, smiling at the thugs as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin blade. The black and silver edge sparked menacingly in the moonlight, and in the darkness, you could never tell it was wooden with painted-on features. Then again, it didn’t matter. His eyes turned red, and the color in the world faded. Three blue outlines turned to him as the knife suddenly gained weight. He smirked, looking at each of the thugs. “So this is how you mug people nowadays? Honestly where's the style or grace in threatening people with a knife like that?” The first thug charged forward, cocking his arm back, while at the same time his small scorpion tail glowed yellow. Joker chuckled as he jumped forward. The fist didn’t fly forward, with the tail whipping over it to where Joker stood a moment before.

Joker placed an open hand on the thug’s shoulder and spun. His body twisted through the air like a skilled dancer until his lower body lined up with his opponents back. Both legs shot out, nailing the unfortunate fool in the small of the back. His head hit the alley wall, forcing him to sprawl on the ground as the tail lay limp and the blue light faded to a dull gray. Joker turned without a single care, spinning the knife around his finger like a circus trick. “So, I’m guessing he was the hothead of your little group. Which one of you holds the brain cells?” 

A thin man spread his arms wide. “Hold up now, you’re obviously not a hero right, how about we cut you in? You get a cut of whatever money we make, and we leave peacefully. Sounds fair, right?”

Joker laughed out loud. It wasn’t a soft and gentle sound like he did with his friends. It was derisive, annoyed, and most importantly, terrifying. “Really? If I needed to rob some punk girl in an ally for my money, I would just kill myself. There’s more honor in that than what you feral dogs are doing anyways.” He lowered himself slightly, the knife held loose in his grip. “So new offer. If you run away right now, I’ll let you go, and I won’t be forced to add a few new holes in some very inconvenient places.” 

The man with spread arms smirked, and his eyes suddenly turned bright green. If it had been a normal person, they might have expected a charge and a headbutt, but Akira had fought the demons of old and came out without a scratch. He dropped into a roll as a bright flash of light flashed, and a beam oxidized the air above his head. He kept the momentum and rose with the knife blade sticking up. He was rewarded with the sound of ripping fabric. There was a grunt from his right, and his body moved on instinct, drawing the large airsoft pistol from his jacket and raising it to the sound. The explosion of a .50 caliber round deafened everyone in the alley. As a muted thump sounded beside Akira and rose slowly, the ringing in his ears faded quickly. “So do you give up yet?”

The only thug left standing shut his eyes, raising his hands above his head as Joker put his knife calmly under his jacket, keeping the pistol out as he brought out several pairs of zip ties. After tying up the only conscious villain and placing him against the wall, he moved to the shot one. He looked at the wound he made on the injured idiot, sighing deeply. “Curse good reflexes and my deadly toys.” He reached into a pocket, pulling a small syringe and pair of tweezers out of his pocket. “This would be so much easier with another pair of hands.”

There was a slight cough from behind him, and the pistol was moved quickly, his body turning to face the noise, only to end up staring at the girl who was being mugged a minute ago. She was wearing a leather jacket, torn leggings peeking out from under a dark skirt. Her purple hair was cut short, and the soft light sent the earphone jacks into a flashing strobe of lights as it danced across her face. “Uhm, did you forget about me?”

Joker lowered the pistol, then for safety tucked it back into the hidden holster under his arm. “Kinda, focusing on keeping idiot number three from dying. Help or leave, I don’t care either way.” He put the syringe on the ground beside him, opening the bullet wound slightly and focusing his eyes. The small BB in the wound glowed in faint golden light until they were cut off by a pair of hands helping him hold open the wound, the sound of gagging reaching his ears from beside him. He smirked. “Thanks, kid, always good to see someone helping the guy who tried to gut them. Warms my cynical heart or something.” 

With his left-hand free, he lowered himself more, using it to balance himself as he dug into the man’s wound and pulled the BB free. The small white orb was completely undamaged despite the impossibility of being fired from a literal explosion. He tossed it aside, pulling the cap off the syringe. “Ok ma’am, hold the wound together while I prep this.” He began to ready the syringe, making sure there were no air bubbles and cleared the needle from its small case. The girl was turning green, but barely flinched as the needle descended into the thigh of the man underneath her. There was a hiss as the auto-injector did its work, and the click of the needle as it slid back inside the tube. Joker moved it to his pocket with a smile as he looked down and raised a hand to the wound. “Ok kid, now for the fun part; cops will be here soon, so we don’t have time to bandage him up, but luckily I know a shortcut.”

His eyes focused as familiar feelings surged through him, forcing his mind into a familiar shape. In his mind's eye formed the image of a small woman, wings behind her as she laughed at his side. As soon as it fully formed, he focused, and felt his concentration waver as he spoke. “Dia.” Green sparks flew from his hand, landing on the bullet wound and slowly knitting flesh and muscle back together. The hands holding the wound shut rapidly left, and the sound of vomit sounded from behind Joker as he watched with clinical detachment, watching as the blue liquid of his shot leaked out slowly, and then stopped. “Dormina.” The villain slumped into a relaxed sleep. Akira nodded, tying up the thug and stretching his back. “Okay, we’re done here.” A siren sounded from behind him, causing a smirk to flash on his face as he turned the girl. “Name’s Joker, tell the cops that I beat them up for trying to mug you.” She nodded, looking back and forth for the police before back at him. He was gone when her eyes returned, the sound of a shoe on metal being the only sound to reach her ears from the fire escape above her. As the police sirens came closer, she didn’t bother looking up at her newest hero. Instead, her eyes focused on the small card floating down in the air. Without a second thought, she grabbed it, putting it into her pocket without a second thought.

Eraserhead grumbled as he came into the station, sipping on a juice pouch as he walked past officers going about their evening business. Aizawa tossed his now-empty pouch into a trash can. Tsukauchi had called him in for something he dubbed vitally important. Eraserhead wouldn’t have minded, if it wasn’t for the fact he had all of two days until the U.A. Entrance exam, and was running on less sleep than his already deprived schedule normally allowed. He walked into the office without knocking, falling into the shitty office chair Tsukauchi kept because Aizawa refused to sit in the nice chair across from his desk. Aizawa spoke first. “You have five minutes to make me care about whatever you need. I have to sort out the entrance exam grading metric for this year, since we’re trying to update it, and this is already taking too long for me to sleep tonight.”

Tsukauchi nodded, his face deadly serious. “How’s this for a hook, your new informant just went vigilante.”

Aizawa bolted up, staring the detective in the eyes. “What?! My latest informant is just some punk kid, there’s no way he could...” He paused, rubbing his chin. He had good intel. If he had been keeping himself under wraps until his debut, then it would make sense. He shook his reasonings off and leaned forward. “Wait, he could have. He’s only been on the scene as an informant for a week; I only picked him up because he managed to figure out my office number.”

Tsukauchi paused. “Isn’t your office in the phone book as Grumpy Caterpillar’s cleaning service? The one with the voicemail of you just snoring for five minutes?”

Aizawa nodded. “Yeah, left me a voicemail calling me by my hero name and everything.” He omitted the fact that the kid impressed him with the call as much as finding his number. In the minute-long call, he made an effective pitch, listing off teaser after teaser of potential information before giving a meeting point and time. 

Tsukauchi didn’t need him to say it. If it wasn’t impressive, Eraserhead wouldn’t have shown up. Tsukauchi moved a few papers around his desk. “But now we get to the hard part. We’ve opened a vigilante case on him under the name he gave the girl, which I assume is the same one he gave you.” He passed a thin folder over the desk. In red ink, the word Joker was emblazoned in a large, professional script. 

Without a word, Aizawa took it, opening it and looking over the three pages. On the front was a normal face sheet. The picture was a sketch of Joker, made as close as possible to the witness description, as well as a list of hypothesized ages. He read through it all before grunting. “Not a lot to go on, but I can correct a few things.” He put the face sheet down, pointing to his age. “For one, he’s not 23 to 28. He’s a kid. Maybe 16 or 17 at the absolute oldest, though I’m guessing 15. He also isn’t wealthy like the report suggests.” He pointed at the possible leads section and tapped the small snippet about designer clothes. “When we were talking, he was eating the cheapest brand of canned pineapples you can get at the supermarket, and I can tell you just a few hundred yen can get you much better pineapple. If you buy that crap by accident, you throw it out unless you’re desperate.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk, shuffling to the second paper. It was a summary of the event, which had a security camera in the corner. While it helped collaborate the victim’s story with the audio, it was angled wrong to get any good footage. He read halfway through the report before he spoke. “He shot one of the perpetrators?”

Tsukauchi nodded, grabbing his nearby coffee mug and taking a sip. “Yeah, but read the rest. It’s a bit of a ride.” 

Aizawa continued reading, this time tapping a foot as he rubbed his chin, and then he froze. It was only for a split second, but his tapping started again, with fingers drumming in synch. He reached the bottom of the page, and then his eyes traveled to the top again, reading it fully. He sighed, shaking his head. “Kid’s a problem child for sure. A problem child with a healing quirk.”

Tsukauchi nodded. “Yeah, and a good one at that. But I don’t think it’s a healing quirk. At least not fully. That last detail the girl added, the ‘dormina’ thing. She said the villain calmed down instantly when he said it, and she saw something like a light purple fog when he used it. I’m not sure what his quirk is, but we’re looking into it being a dual quirk, with emitters as both healing and mental.”

Aizawa raised a hand to his capture tape. “What about illegal support gear? He mentioned doing errands for some underground group. Think he could get away with the ‘it fell off a truck’ excuse?”

Tsukauchi paused for a moment. “I hadn’t thought of that. A voice-activated support item would be great for misdirection. Especially if your quirk was already voice-based.” He tapped a finger against his coffee mug, trying to puzzle out the newest vigilante. “Either way, he’s your informant. You’re on the case to bring him down; I assume you’re already making a plan?”

Aizawa nodded. “Not particularly. He gave good intel, but I’d have to know his motive for doing vigilante work before I come up with a plan.” He tapped his foot once and felt his phone vibrate as he did. He pulled it out and sighed. He glanced at it once, before passing it over the desk. “I can add a better picture to the file.”

Tsukauchi looked at the phone. There was a picture of a black-haired boy sitting on a rooftop, one arm stretched out to take the photo, with the other making a peace sign beside his head. An alley cat had apparently snuck into the frame, it’s black and white body looking at the boy in a vaguely interested manner. Tsukauchi looked at it for a moment before sighing. “Email it to me. I’ll add it to the case.”

Aizawa flipped to the last page and commented as soon as he saw it. “Only one witness interview?”

Tsukauchi nodded. “Yep, we just let the girl go, and the perpetrators have refused to talk. She seems to think he’s doing the right thing, so she refused to give us anything she thought we could use.”

Aizawa nodded. “She slipped up though. She mentioned he called his gun a deadly toy, and despite the gunshot wound she mentioned, they pulled a small BB from the wound. So it means either he does have some serious support gear as weaponry, or his healing and sleeping trick were both equipment, and he has a serious genius giving him some sort of experimental tech.” Aizawa’s head hit the counter. “This case is going to steal all of my sleep, isn’t it?”

Joker landed softly on the roof of his apartment, his shoes clacking as he made his way to the door inside. With barely a thought, his eyes faded to gray, and blue flames covered his body for a moment, erasing his clothing and replacing it with his sport jacket and white shirt. His jeans covered him naturally as his soft shoes cushioned his feet. He slid down the staircase and smiled as he jumped through the door to his floor. He smiled as he dug his key out of his pockets and froze. He’d had a note with his address on it by his key. A note that was now gone. Of course, there was a chance that he had it in his other clothes, but that meant it could have slipped out in his night’s lone activity while touring the neighborhood. 

“Shit.” He pulled his key out, only to spot a purple-haired girl step out of the opposite side of the hallway, looking over a note in her hand. Her eyes glanced up, and a flash of recognition sparked in her eyes. Akira Kurusu leaned into his door as she rushed up, holding up a hand in a futile attempt to stop her. As she came to a stop in front of him, he lowered his head. “Double shit.” He turned around and unlocked his door. “Well kid, want some coffee? It seems like we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many Thanks to MystikOwl for the edits


	4. Welcome To The Vault

Akira Kurusu had done many things for the people he saved. He had crashed a crime syndicate, destroyed a fake artist, and even put a round in a god’s smug, murderous face. What he hadn’t done was invite them into his apartment without even knowing their name. So he fell back on what he did know. He started up the various machines he’d ordered to make the small island separating the kitchen from the living room into a miniature cafe, and began brewing coffee. The girl was mostly silent as he ran through the motions honed from a year of training, with occasional pauses as he looked at a small note that was laminated and framed on the counter. He muttered as he worked, making the purple-haired girl look around with worry. This idea had been stupid. She was in the home of a vigilante—one she saw shoot a man maybe three hours ago. In a list of questionable decisions she’s made throughout her life, this was probably the worst. All of those thoughts crashed as the man she knew as Joker let out a single question. “How do you take coffee, sweet or bitter?”

Her train of thought derailed. She was pretty sure than when it derailed, it took out the station of rational decisions because she actually answered. “Sweet, I don’t like bitter drinks.”

Joker moved easily across the island, grabbing a few things and pouring two cups. With one cup,he opened several small packets and stirred them into the coffee. For the other, he simply grabbed two fresh cubes of sugar and plopped them in. He brought both to the small sitting area she had been awkwardly standing at for the past few minutes. He placed them on the table, stirring his own cup as he sat on a worn wooden chair that creaked as he leaned into it. “So I guess we’ll start with introductions. I’m Akira Kurusu. Also known as Joker, the leader of the Theives Guild.” He winced slightly, causing the girl to wince as well. He recovered quickly, tapping his spoon to the side of the cup before spinning it on one finger. “Not that that means anything anymore.”

He looked to his guest levelly, and she saw his eyes flash. Their soft grey turned bright red, but it faded as quickly as it appeared. She grabbed at her drink, stepping into the chair opposite of Akira. She took a sip of her coffee and took a moment to enjoy it. It was good. Like... really good. She then made an executive decision: nobody who made a cup of coffee this good could truly be bad. “I’m Jirou Kyouko, future hero.”

Akira scoffed, taking a sip of coffee. “So fill in a gap in logic for me. Why did a future hero follow a vigilante home and accept his coffee?” He paused for a moment. “Unless this is the most convoluted suicide attempt in history, in which case I applaud your creativity.” He put his coffee in his lap, clapping twice while smirking.

Jirou snorted into her cup, and tried to ignore the slight dusting of her cheeks. “No, I just wanted to say thank you. If I had gotten hurt, I might not have been able to take the entrance exam for UA in a couple of days.” She played with the small spoon in her coffee, the soft clink of silver on glass echoing in the apartment. “And I want to be a hero more than anything, so I was really lucky you were there. Even if you are doing something illegal.”

Akira smirked, taking a sip of his coffee again. He slurped it slightly before setting the now empty cup on the table. “Well, of course I’m doing something illegal. Did you miss the part where I lead a thieves guild? Doing illegal stuff is literally my job.” He leaned back, resting his arms behind his head. “Speaking of which, when can I expect SWAT teams to start knocking?”

Jirou giggled again, finding it easier and easier to talk to this strange teenager she had met. “Well since I didn’t call them, I figure we have a while. That’d be kind of a dick move, wouldn’t it? Coming to thank you with the police right behind me.” She crossed her legs, leaning back into the creaky wood of the chair. “I really just wanted to thank you, and maybe ask for some help.”

There was a pause in speaking from in front of her, making her look up at the boy across from her. There was a small clink as he put his cup down on the small table, and he crossed his arms in front of him. “So there’s the root of your visit. If you want to commission the thieves guild, you should really know,” His eyes flashed from soft gray to a sharp red. “Everyone who’s tried to use us for their own ends has either wound up dead or in prison.” He hid the wince at the word ‘dead.’ Saying it may have been scarier than saying ‘in prison,’ but some part of him felt bad for using the death of Goro like that. Rest his broken little soul.

Jirou paled slightly at the reminder she was talking to someone who admitted to being a thief and nearly killed a man hours ago, but quickly focused back on her pitch. She smiled slightly. “C’mon, if you were half as bad as you’re acting, that guy from earlier would have died in the alley. Besides, I don’t want to commission the thieves guild.” She leaned forward. “I want to be a hero, and I want you to train me.”

Akira paused, staring at the girl across from him. His first thought was of Goro, asking to be taken care of with a cocky grin that he wouldn’t see again until Goro swapped to a black mask and tried to slice the whole of the phantom thieves to little pieces. His mouth opened to say no until another memory hit him. Ah crap! If I keep going like this you’re gonna leave me in the dust. Gimme some pointers man. And suddenly for a brief moment, he didn’t see Kyoko. He saw Ryuji Sakamoto, leaning back with a cocky smile asking for help without even wondering if it was needed. Akira paused for a moment, and giggled, smirking as he leaned back. “I’m leaving on some business in Yongen-Jaya for the next three days. When I’m back, come here and meet me. I’ll teach you everything you need to know to save lives.”

Akira leaned forward suddenly, locking eyes with the quirked girl. “But there are some non-negotiable rules. One, I’m not going to teach you how to be a fair and just fighter.” He tapped a hand on the table. “I’ll teach you how to hit below the belt, break knees, and make the other guy regret resisting arrest.” Jirou widened her eyes, but nodded as Akira raised a second finger. “Two, you’ll be paying by occasionally helping me with work. I’m planning on finding marks again soon. Nothing illegal, Just help me find people who are abusing power from positions of authority. Or people that need some help.” Jirou raised an eyebrow, but nodded again. Akira leaned back. “And finally, if you ever see me disappear for a while, you’ll forget it ever happened. Got it?”

Jirou nodded, picking her cup back up and playing with it. “The only thing I might budge on is illegal activities. I won’t break the law to help you—I’m going to be a hero after all.” She smirked across the table, causing it to shift slightly under her weight. “And if I help you pick out a target, I can also veto an option if I think it’s a bad idea.”

She expected outrage. She expected a staunch refusal and renegotiation. She expected a negative response. Instead, all she got was boisterous laughter as Akira slid down his chair as his legs kicked. “Of course! All the contracts the Thieves Guild accept are unanimous decisions. And I can hardly discount my newest member.” He flashed her an animal’s grin, and Jirou felt her cheeks dust slightly. She realized just how dangerous this man truly was. Because being accepted as a member of an admittedly criminal group should have scared her. Instead, she felt glad to have a person standing in her corner. Akira stood up, moving to the door. “YOu know where I live; you know when I’ll be back, so just one more rule,” Jirou stood up, following him as he walked to the door. He opened it calmly. “If you see me in the other outfit, call me Joker. See you after you pass your exam.” She walked out of the apartment with a smile on her face. She suddenly felt a lot better about her entrance exam in a couple of days. She thought she heard the click of a camera shutter from behind her as she left, but ignored it as she walked back home. 

The morning came quickly, and in the pre-dawn light, the trains began running. The above-ground models for longer travels began pulling out of the station with a tired groan of metal. As ticket inspectors began walking through the cars, they thought they would catch every illegal passenger. They would not. It wasn’t their fault though, they never would have thought to check the roof. Joker raised his phone and began looking through the map of Yongen-Jaya. It had changed remarkably little since he had left; that included the small coffee shop hidden in the backstreets he was heading to. Of course, the neighborhood had its share of odd instances. For one, the whole area was owned by a large corporation named the Masquerade. Akira hadn’t looked too deeply into it yet, but their ownership of property seemed erratic: afew schools that were run privately, a few neighborhoods, a small chain of shops, and their money-making business of restaurants all across Japan. 

Then there was the vault. Under the very cafe he was going to, there was a vault no one could open, which was precisely the reason he was heading there. There was a retina scanner that had never been hacked, with a sharp-toothed chibi cat imprinted on it. Akira had an inkling of who it was keyed to, and as the wind whipped around him, he felt his heart glow. Before now, it was a pipe dream—a thought that had bugged him when he heard of it, but one that he couldn’t justify wasting the time to check out as he got set up in what he thought might be a new world, but with Eraserhead telling him the name Yaldabaoth, he knew that his theories had been confirmed. Something happened and people had quirks, but this was his world. His Japan, and his home. 

The train started to slow as Joker looked at the rapidly moving buildings of Yongen-Jaya. Before the train reached a full stop, he was already leaping off, rolling quickly as his tailcoat flapped behind him. He stuck his hands in his pockets and began walking. A nearby person was staring at him in awe and fear, but was dismissed with a wink and a smile. As quickly as he appeared, he was invisible in the alleys. Blue flame shrouded him as his uniform vanished, leaving him in a sports jacket and grey shirt. Slightly overdressed for the area, but not in a way to bring excess attention to himself, especially with where he was going. He exited the alley onto a backstreet beside a movie theater and smiled wide. He was home. He turned right and saw the familiar sight of cafe Leblanc. It was almost cathartic. The same notice board was sitting outside the door, with only the additional plants upfront changed. The memos were new, asking for help and mentioning the challenge to break the vault. He ignored these as he walked in, and froze. It was exactly the same. The booth tables sitting against the wall, the empty barstools up against a counter filled with antiquated coffee makers, even the janky old tv in the corner. It was all the same, and tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he moved to the stool he used to eat breakfast at as Sojiro made breakfast. He waited as muted sounds came from above him before the thump of footsteps sounded from the stairwell that, in his own mind, had been his bedroom only a few weeks ago.

A figure descended, dark hair smoothed over his skull, and brown eyes looked at him in confusion. “Oh, a new customer. I’m Adachi, and I run this place for my benevolent overlords. Need anything?”

Akira smiled, leaning over the counter as he smiled. “Yes, I want a Blue Mountain Blend made however you think best, with a small side of curry.”

Adachi didn’t nod or respond, instead, he went to the small kitchen, began to mix his curry, and put the coffee on. With the barista distracted, Akira turned his eye to the door that used to lead to the cellar/bathroom. There was a small sign posted above it, proclaiming in expert calligraphy that the vault lay below. Akira felt his palms itch—avault that more than likely was literally made for him, with unknown loot for him to line the bag hanging over his shoulder—the thought thrilled him, but going before he critiqued the coffee would be a sin, and he was still going to do this right. Which was why a red card sat in his breast pocket, ready to be left above the opened vault on the way out the door. But all that could wait until he had made sure they took good care of his once-home.

Adachi wasn’t much of a speaker, much like his predecessor in the form of Soijro; he focused solely on brewing the coffee and serving curry. Akira didn’t mind in the slightest, pulling out his phone and pulling up a website on heroes, researching the ones common to Yongen-Jaya. There were surprisingly few, the only ones that focused on that area were a few small-time heroes who worked mostly nights, and a pair of rivals known as Narwhal and the Arctic Fox. Besides playing up their rivalry for popularity, they mostly seemed to be reactive rather than proactive, the worst type of hero to attempt to deal with the Trickster. He locked his phone as both coffee and curry were seated in front of him, and took a tentative sip. The flavor was... similar. It wasn’t the same as the boss’s blend, but in terms of quality, it was close. After taking a bite of curry, he found the story was the same there, too. Not quite up to the old Boss’s standard, but almost. So he silently ate, trying to ignore the subtle differences between here and home. It was easier since he expected it. Hell, he had been warned about it by the simple amount of time that had passed. But, it was still an adjustment. The old tv was still there, but the news was different. No updates on Shido or the phantom thieves wafting through the cafe. The coffee makers were similar, but the burners were replaced with a strange glowing red device. It was... different. Akira scoffed as he finished his breakfast, scooting the chair out. “Where’s your bathroom?”

Adachi didn’t look up from his phone, relaxing behind the bar as he was. “Under the sign for the vault, first door on the right.”

Akira stood up, fixing his jacket as he put down a collection of yen coins. “Money is on the table, I’ll leave when I’m done.” He didn’t bother listening for a response, he doubted one would come. He moved to the bathroom door and passed it by, heading to the vault without a second thought. It was exactly as described, astrange black metal making up the entire rear wall of the cellar, with the only clear areas being the obvious door and the small retinal scanner beside it. Akira walked calmly, passing coffee beans and spare stools before lowering his eye to the scanner and waiting. The light washed over his eye as the grey fabric of his mask pressed uncomfortably over his face. There was a moment of silence as nothing happened, before a slow hiss of air quietly sparked beside Akira. The door opened with little more than the sound of a sliding door. The thick mass of metal made much less noise than one would expect. 

The vault was darkened, with nothing to denote the contents of the vault from the outside. There was a small flash of blue flame, and Joker walked through the entryway. The darkness enveloped him, and a hiss from behind him warned him that the door had sealed behind him. Joker tapped his foot impatiently. “C’mon guys, I know you’d want to mess with me, but making me wait in the dark? Really?”

A small clunk sounded before the click of lights began to light the inside of the vault. Steel walls and floors greeted Joker, with the only decoration being a laptop sitting on a table. A large case sat beside it, locked with the handle out. Joker rolled his eyes, walking up to the laptop and opening it. A quick inspection found it unplugged, but with one action that issue was fixed. The power button worked, starting the boot-up process of the laptop. Joker leaned over the table as the sign-in greeted him. Joker looked at the username, which was a phrase. ‘Read when safe.’ 

He adjusted his gloves, trying to stop the itch in his palms, as he shut the laptop and tucked it into his jacket. He lifted the case onto the table, carefully popping the latches with a lockpick before opening it wide. He broke out in a cold sweat at the contents. First there was a picture, framed and fitted, him and Ryuji, playing at the arcade, while Morgana tried to bat at the figures on the screen. He reached out a slow hand, touching the side of the picture with reverent grace. Beside it lay an iron mask formed into half a skull. As soon as Joker put down the picture, he reached for the mask, only for a spurt of blue fire to arc towards him, causing Joker to recoil. He shook his head. Another thing for later. Underneath all of it was what accounted for the weight and size of the package—a large item that could be misconstrued as piece of dark surrealist art if one didn’t notice the trigger assembly in the back faces littering the barrel, all but one holding a trumpet. The almighty weapon, Megido Fire. Joker picked it up, hoisting the massive weight of the weapon easily. He sighted it quickly before nodding and placing it back in the case. With everything packed away, he looked over the room one last time. Empty. A single plug and table making the room seem emptier than ever before. Joker’s eyes flashed red, looking over the room with his Third Eye. Nothing. He shrugged the case over his shoulder. A button on the wall opened the door, and Joker walked out easily, shoving a bag of coffee beans in the way of the door closing. Either it would stay open or show proof someone had been inside. As he flicked his calling card onto a shelf, he smiled. Either way, this was his breakout moment. A thief robbing a vault, classic.

Kyoko Jiro collapsed on her bed with a huff. She was exhausted, and the entrance exam hadn’t gone as well as she thought. She didn’t think she failed, but it was closer than she would have liked, and all she really wanted to do was shut off her brain and lay down. She still had to go fix dinner since her parents were on tour until next week, but she couldn’t find the motivation. She flicked on the TV at the foot of her bed, turning the news on. “The vault that has vexed historians and thieves has finally been cracked. The small vault under local cafe Leblanc was opened at an unknown point during the day by a thief calling himself ‘Joker’” 

Jiro bolted up, looking to the TV in awe. “Wait, what?” She stared at the screen as they prattled o, “The door propped open by a bag of coffee leading to an empty vault. The cafe had been fairly busy, with the robbery happening at some point after the breakfast rush. The vault now has a small team of scientists trying to figure out what exactly was inside it, but the vault was cleared of everything except a small table.” Jiro smiled at the tv for a moment before settling down. She’d guessed he was a thief like he said, even though he did save her life, but who cared if he only robbed from some old vault anyways.

Eraserhead leaned into his desk. This was not the way he wanted his evening after the entrance exam to go. He stared at the report in front of him. In it, Joker’s calling card had been placed at the forefront, which had a paragraph telling off the world for forgetting about true heroes. It idly mentioned an apology for grave-robbing, but still, it was approaching one a.m., and he was still reading over every report on this vault he could find. He lifted a thermos of coffee to his lips, taking a sip. “Okay, so my problem child broke into a vault that has remained unopened for at least two hundred years.” He took out his phone and sent a text message. “I was right, this kid is bad for my insomnia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to MystikOwl for the edits. You is best girl.


	5. Meet The Rat

Joker thought briefly on the facts of life as the soft morning light began to drift through his vision. Not deep thoughts like the worth of man and our place in the world. No, he was interested in a much simpler fact. “I could be home already if I would just man up and actually buy train tickets.” He thought this as the old train chugged through the countryside, finishing a circuit that would eventually lead back to his apartment. At roughly eight in the morning. As it was now only six, Joker had plenty of time to ruminate on this thought as he held onto the briefcase painfully poking into his side. He looked over the trees as they shifted into sparse buildings before the wooden roof of an ancient train station came into view. 

Joker was tired. Tired and grumpy. “Screw it, I’m taking a taxi.” As the screech of the train reached a crescendo, Joker rolled off the train and onto the tracks. He landed softly as blue flame flickered down his body, and he was back in street clothes. He waited for a moment while the train reached a stop, before stepping through the connector and onto the platform. It wasn’t a long walk to the taxi hub. He hopped in the first cab that was open and paused. He thought it was empty, and the door was open as a way to say the cabbie was expecting customers. The small rat-man in front of him disproved that notion. They stared at each other for a moment in confusion. The cabbie, hearing the door click, began to drive away.

Joker had been in many odd and disturbing situations. None of those prepared him for being in the physical world riding a taxi with a mouse-bear. He cleared his throat. “So, I’m assuming you can talk since we’re both in a cab and I didn’t tell him where to go?”

The mouse-bear smiled, straightening the waistcoat he had on. “Oh, how wonderful! A human who not only doesn’t know me but acted without complete surprise at a creature in a cab. I am Nedzu, a pleasure to meet you!”

Akira shook his head, running a hand through the mass of curls on his head. “Yeah, pleasure’s mine. I’m Akira Kurusu. Sorry about jumping in your cab, didn’t notice you were here.” Akira paused for a moment looking at the reinforced wall separating him from the cabbie. There was a button and speaker, which is probably why the cabbie drove off despite gaining a new passenger. He clicked his tongue once. “Speaking of, where are we going?”

Nedzu shuffled his feet like an excited child. “Why, the greatest school in the world, U.A. of course. I have a position there of small importance, and decided I should get going and fill out some paperwork.” 

Akira nodded, pulling out his phone as he tried to quietly google where this supposed school was. Nedzu looked interested, but stayed quiet as Akira worked. He wasn’t content to just tap away on his phone though, a year in the metaverse made a quiet car ride seem far too foreboding. “I was just heading home, I pulled an all-nighter and need to finish a bit more work before I can rack out for the day.” He paused for a moment and cursed quietly. “And I’m tutoring some kid today. I hope she doesn’t stop by until later this afternoon.”

Nedzu nodded, looking out the window. “Yes, I know the feeling of having to help a child when all you really want is sleep. But as I work at a school, it is my job. I assume you tutor children to pay for hobbies through high-school?”

Akira paused, looking up the location of U.A. in relation to his house. Luckily it was a short forty-minute walk back to his apartment. Shorter if he took the bullet, but he hated those things. “Nope, I’m a dropout. I make more in my day-job then some, and I’m happier doing it than I am in school. The tutoring is because the kid wants to be a hero and saw me busting a head or two and wanted tips.”

Nedzu hummed a bit, looking at Akira, causing a shudder to run up his spine. “Really? What job do you do if I may ask? Not many jobs require violence that you can get without a degree.”

Akira leaned back, glad he had made a full cover story earlier. “I’m under contract as a security officer for a wealthy man. I make sure the world keeps turning, and he pays well for it.” Akira locked his phone and slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Plus he’s an old friend, helped me out of a tight spot last year, and made it so I didn’t end up dead or in jail.” Akira laughed, mostly at how honest that answer was. “I was a bit more of a hellion in those days. He forced some friends on me, made sure I got my head on right.” He sighed at the memories the sentence brought up, tapping the case impatiently.

Nedzu noticed, but refrained from comment. Instead, he focused on the words over the actions. “I’ve found a good group of friends can even anyone out. So, what exactly did you do to catch an aspiring hero as a student? Most of the ones that make it into a heroics course are smart about who they accept lessons from.”

Akira paused. He didn’t have a cover for this. He rolled his neck, carefully avoiding any eye movements as he fit together a story. “She was caught up in a mugging on company property. Three thugs thought that because an area was privately owned, the cops would react slower. I beat them down and filled in the cops when they arrived a few minutes later. The girl saw me fight and realized my quirk was basically useless for it. She figured if I could beat three violent thugs, I could at least teach her the basics.” Akira smiled, flashing predatory teeth as his eyes flashed into a piercing red. “And she was right. I’ve been in more scrapes than some heroes, and I haven’t lost one yet.”

Nedzu smiled back, and pointed teeth made the rodent creature so much scarier than he had any right to be. “That is interesting. Tell me Mr. Kurusu, if I were to offer you a schedule to match your work, would you be interested in going to my humble school? I’m sure I could convince the principal to put you in a specialized course.”

Akira paused. He didn’t have a high-school degree here. Hell, he didn’t really have a plan besides finding the vaults and helping people. Besides finding out exactly what happened to his friends. He wanted to make sure he didn’t have any debts to pay. Even if none of them would probably last this long. But keeping the name of the phantom thieves alive wasn’t going to pay bills, and while he could do his fall-back plan for money, it was not a stable income. Sure some days gave him enough for a month or two, but without pulling out a trump card he wasn’t willing to test yet. On the flip-side, it might cut into his work hours. Patrolling his area and diving for cash took time after all. He thought for a moment as he tapped a short rhythm on his briefcase. “If, and this is a hypothetical, but if I was willing to join, what would I be doing exactly?”

Nedzu clapped happily, looking far too cute for a creature that just proved he could probably rip out Akira’s throat if the need arose. “I’m so happy you’re considering it. Well, I’d have to know your schedule, but I assume you would attend classes mostly in the morning and be excused from non-essential classes in the evening.” He paused a moment. “Once a week you would have to be present from one to three, but if that’s an issue, I’m sure you could skip out on morning classes.”

Akira stared, just missing half of school? He would be swamped with work at home. Nedzu seemed to pick up on this. “Of course, you would also have to attend a private lesson with the principal on the weekends. He tends to like any student he takes under special circumstances to be a personal student of sorts.”

Akira winced at that. Weekends were his only time actually off, but would it be worth it for a degree? He ruffled his hair some more, thinking it over. “Okay, what would I have to do to get in on this? I’m assuming pass a few tests, maybe go through some interviews? That sound about right?”

Nedzu nodded. “Of course! If you would give me a phone number, I would gladly pass your info along with my recommendation.”

Akira reached into his pocket, pulling a small journal with a pen in it from the confines. He opened it to the last page, writing down a number he had just memorized a few days ago and ripped out the page. “Here’s my personal phone. I can respond whenever—my sleep schedule is non-existent.”

The cab slowed to a halt, the speaker crackling and saying they’d arrived. Akira stepped out as Nedzu stared at the paper. “Very well then! I look forward to seeing you at U.A., and if the principal agrees, then your exam will be with the other recommendation students in two weeks. It will be all day, so make sure to request it off!”

Akira nodded, waving goodbye as he made his way to his apartment. The streets were so strange. Familiar to him in an almost haunting way, but so different. If he stopped paying attention, he could make it to old man Shinki’s bookstore. Only to end up in a chain cafe that nearly seemed local. Or he could try and drop by Ms. Isshaki’s model store and stare at a pet store. It was unnerving. He let out an annoyed grunt as he straightened his jacket with one hand. He couldn’t deal with this without any sleep. He ducked into one of the taller buildings before making his way to the roof. He had already been considered a weird cryptid at Shujin, he might as well earn that reputation here as well. He climbed the service stairs quickly, and the fancy reinforced door was stupidly easy to pick, causing Akira to laugh as he made his way to the roof. 

Rooftops were a much better option for moving without memories getting in the way. It was hard to remember his favorite little toy store he would walk in on the way back from elementary school was now an apartment complex when you were running across the roof. He jumped across a street, the near impossibility of the maneuver making a few people below point up at him, but as he landed on the roof of his apartment and rolled, he didn’t care. He stood up in one smooth motion, only for a kid in front of him to be staring at him. A familiar kid. Shit. “Hey Midoriya, funny running into you here.”

Midoriya looked like shit, tear tracks racked his eyes, though the confusion in them seemed to overpower whatever grief had been living there a moment ago. He looked at Akira in confusion and curiosity. “Why’d you jump onto the roof?”

Akira cracked his neck, tapping his briefcase. “I pulled an all-nighter to get some work done, and I can’t navigate the streets super well. Rooftops are easier.” Akira wanted to go to his apartment and open his case. He started to move towards it, before stopping. The kid looked like utter shit and obviously needed a pep-talk. He sat down instead, putting the case beside him. “What’s up kid? You look like someone just told you your sister has a heart of evil and you have to be the one to stop her.”

Izuku paused at the worryingly specific example, but then seemed to remember the source of his current grief. “I a-always wanted to be a hero. When I got my quirk, I thought I could, but on my exam, I didn’t get a single point. N-now I won’t get into my school, and it’s all because I can’t control my quirk to take down some robots.”

Akira looked at the kid with a raised eyebrow. “That’s dumb.” There was a pause as Midoriya looked at him in shock, Akira pushed on. “If a hero school judges you solely on your ability to punch things really hard, then they’re not gonna get any of the really cool heroes. Hell, I bet anyone with a psychic quirk would fail, and I know that messing with a villain’s brain is a great way to take them down.” Akra leaned back, propping himself upon his hands. “If I had to guess, there’s a secondary part or two of the exam, one that makes it so if you do something other than punch everything you can still pass.” He hummed in thought, bouncing his head back and forth. “So don’t worry about it too much, if you acted like that excited kid who led me to my apartment, then you’ll probably be fine. I’m rooting for you, kid.”

Midoriya sniffled as Akira got up, kicking the handle of the case so it jumped into his hand. As Akira approached the door Midoriya spoke, causing him to pause. “You’re rooting for me, even if you don’t know my quirk?”

Akira chuckled, opening the door as he looked over his shoulder. “Kid, quirks aren’t worth spit. Take on someone with enough conviction, and I guarantee even if you’re packing a quirk that makes you a god, you’ll end up sucking on grass from the bitter roots.” Akira called out as he disappeared underneath the stairs. “Trust me, that’s from experience.”

He made it back to his apartment quickly, and nearly slammed the door shut as he changed himself back into his thief gear. As soon as the laptop was secured, he changed back, plugging it in and turning it on while he sat at the coffee counter. He opened it quickly, typing in something random so he could see the password hint. It was a simple phrase. ‘I’ll curse you.’ Akira giggled, though the laugh broke halfway through. He blinked his eyes slightly typing in the word ‘pharaoh.’ The account logged in instantly, letting him see a single file on the screen with a background he didn’t recognize. A grey-haired Sojiro smirking behind all of his friends, Makoto wearing a police uniform while the rest wore clothes closer to streetwear. They were older, Ryuji sporting a black beard with his bleached hair, and Yusuke painting a picture of Leblanc. Haru wore a dress shirt with a skirt on under it. The suit jacket slung over her chair telling him she had just taken it off. And Futaba was wearing a sleeveless shirt with the phantom thieves logo on it. Her hair was shorter, and a company id was hooked to her neckline. A cat was right near the camera, obviously mid yowl as it glared at Yusuke.

Akira felt his eyes water, but shoved it down. This was proof. Proof that his friends had survived. He shook his head. “You guys really came back. I’d say for me getting sent off, it was a fair trade.” He clicked on the file sitting in the corner. When it opened, there were two things in the folder. A video titled ‘watch me first,’ and a jpeg. Akira listened, double-clicking the video without a second thought. When the video opened, he was staring at an unfamiliar apartment, but a familiar voice sounded off quickly. “Heya Joker, its ya girl, Oracle here for the first time in forever.” An office chair spun into view, brightly colored hair spinning in place as Futaba Sakura rolled into the camera’s view. She wore a cocksure grin and looked to finally be a healthy weight. No longer half-starved by choice. She smiled at the camera. “So, this is really gonna suck for both of us, let’s get that out of the way right now.”

Akira laughed and pointedly ignored the way it choked into a sob halfway through. Oracle paused for a moment. “Being honest, I’m probably never going to see you again. After everyone else... well... you know... Igor got ahold of us and told us about a deal you made with him. You go somewhere and somewhen where you couldn’t influence our lives, and he would use the perception of your survival to swap your place with ours.” She flipped her hands around. “Not sure how it all works out, but the long and short is, you disappeared to save all of us, and will pop up later. The downside, we’ll never see you again.” Oracle looked down to her floor, rubbing her eyes a bit. “But, we can still influence you. So we’re leaving breadcrumbs everywhere we can, hoping to get you to grab a few hints and find our little gifts for you. Think of it as a cross-generational scavenger hunt!” She laughed. “One last fetch quest, huh key item?”

She sobbed, looking down. “Sorry, I promised I wouldn’t cry. At this point I’ve probably been dead for a little while, anyways we’re supposed to give you little updates in these. We’re using them as journals. You can find more of mine in the files down here. They’ll tell you my day to day stuff, but this video is important. There’s a map, follow it to the other vaults, grab the gear, get us all back together. This vault had a couple of gifts from Skull, stuff he couldn’t smuggle into his vault, so mine is in his.” Oracle let out a calming breath, closing her eyes. “As you may have guessed, that’s Skull’s actual mask. It’s not a copy, I won’t go into why we have it here. Let’s just say a lot has happened since you went under, and leave it at that. I’m gonna call this here, but...” She looked up at the camera, and Joker flinched at the silent tear rolling down Oracle’s face. “I love you big bro, and I really hope you’re doing good. See you on the other side.”

The video winked out, leaving Akira to stare at the screen. He numbly opened the map, taking a photo of the collection of hints on his phone. He closed it, and opened the file browser. Sure enough, there was a collection of files under a few names. His friends, talking to him from beyond the veil. He clicked on the first file labeled Ryuji, and opened the first video. There was a loud shout as a leg flew in front of the screen. “Damnit, I shouldn’t have set the camera so high up.” Akira laughed, wiping tears from his cheek as he started a binge to reconnect with his old friends.

Kyouko Jirou walked up to the apartment at four, knocking on the door without much fanfare. It had been three days, so in theory, Joker should be back by now. She waited while several thumps sounded from the apartment, followed by a thunk and the sound of the door unlocking. Jirou opened it, noting the wooden knife on the floor. She paused, looking at the inside of the door. There was a scuff mark on the door beside the lock, telling her how it unlocked with Joker being so far away. She looked up to find him, only to see him staring at a laptop screen. A blue-haired boy was talking to the camera behind him as he painted something they couldn’t see. Joker tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey kid, training today right?”

Jirou watched him wipe his eyes a few times before turning around to face her. His eyes were grey, and he seemed tired as he wandered towards her. “I have a rough schedule for a few sessions. Today is just classroom stuff. Mostly because I haven’t had a good nights sleep in three days.” He sat down in one of his comfy chairs around the coffee table, sitting down while gesturing at the chair opposite of him.

Jirou sat across from him, looking him over. “You don’t look so hot Jo-” A sharp cough cut her off, forcing a correction. “Akira. Was robbing the vault that hard?”

Akira smirked at her, leaning back into his seat. “Breaking into that thing? Please, it was made for me. In and out in twenty minutes. No, but taking ways to and from places that don’t put me in the area I’m working in takes time. I spent most of last night on the roof of a train.” He cracked his neck, pulling a knife out from under the table. “But enough of that. The first thing we have to do is figure out what I’m training you to do. I know I’ll teach you how to move, because if I train you, thenonly for you to end up smashed on concrete because you can’t fall, it would be a waste of time, but I still need to know what weapon to train you in.”

He put the knife on the table before standing up. “One sec, I’ll get your other options.” Jirou picked up the knife, feeling the plastic handle in her hand as she swung it around. It seemed to be weighted well, but it was also a very villain-like weapon. No one likes to listen to the hero who stabbed a villain on public TV. She put it back down and paused at the wooden thunk as the blade sat down. It was a wooden knife, but it looked and weighed just like a real metal knife. She was startled out of her thoughts as Akira walked back in with a golf bag filled with various weapons. “Here we go. Now with most of these, I can teach you the basics. The whip, I’m barely more than an amateur with, but the ax and sword I know a fair bit about. If I didn’t want to keep my normal knife, I might use them on patrols.”

Jirou instantly locked onto the ax. It fit her aesthetic almost perfectly. With a support version that was a guitar, it would fit with her hopeful hero outfit and be useful for more than just swinging around. She pointed to it. “The ax, I think it would work best if I put some stings on one and it could work with my quirk.”

Akira nodded, not making much of a comment as he pulled a large executioner’s ax from the bag and leaning it on the wall. “Cool, so now we get to the boring stuff. I said I was going to teach you to fight, but first, you have to realize the most important part of a fight. What is the one thing that can win you any fight?”

Jirou paused, looking at him. She knew this was a loaded question, he could mean gear or maybe quirks. But she doubted it. She thought about it as Akira watched patiently. She let out a breath as she decided on her answer. “Your mind?”

Akira clapped, smiling earnestly. “Spot on kid. Use your head, and every fight is yours to win or lose.” Akira stood up. “That includes mid-fight. Most people think it ends after prep work, but no. Throwing feints, distracting foes, even the quips and barbs cocky fighters send out can be an important part of the fighter’s toolkit. If you get in a fight, you should be planning your next four steps out in advance. Knowing if the foe expects a kick means it’s time to punch. If they wise up half-way through, you feint to the kick, or a headbutt.” Akira shrugged “Fights happen in a rhythm, make sure you set the beat.”

Jirou smiled. “I get it, it’s like a competitive dance-off, it all works better if you use your opponents moves against them!” 

Akira paused, before shrugging. “Probably, I never saw a dance fight. Now follow me, I’m going to show you where we’re training.” He stood up easily, pulling out his key as he walked out the door. “If you’re going to be training under me, you’ll see it anyways, and I need to pull a shift anyways.” Akira opened the door only to be met by a small pudgy woman, a small container held in one hand as the other was raised to knock. Akira stared at her. “May I... help you?”

The pudgy woman smiled, holding the Tupperware in front of her like it was the holy grail. “My little Izuku told me we had a new neighbor, but you were gone so long, I wasn’t sure when would be a good time to offer a welcoming present!” She passed the container to Akira with a smile. “And after what Izuku said you talked to him about, I was going to offer you dinner tonight.”

Akira hadn’t ever had an adult invite him to something without them basically being family; years of near-abuse from his parents and being a loner even before being branded a delinquent had left him ill-prepared for this moment. He froze, gaping at the woman practically spilling forth positive energy at his door frame. Lucky forAkira, Jirou was there to save him. “Oh, I didn’t know he hadn’t met his neighbors. Kurusu-sensei, can we trade numbers and reschedule for later?”

The question snapped Akira back into reality, causing him to shuffle back. “Uh, sure. Gimme half a second.” He pulled out his phone, confirming it was his nice civilian model. He checked his own number before nodding. “Here you go, text me when you get home safe, or if you need something.” Jirou gave a quick goodbye as Ms. Midoriya waited patiently. After a moment of awkward silence, Akira smiled. “So, I guess I’ll join you. I’m Akira Kurusu, nice to meet you.”

***  
Nedzu looked over every file he could find for Akira Kurusu. The mask was... interesting. The fact it matched the vigilante Aizawa was chasing was equally interesting. Nedzu had sharp eyes, and he could tell when something was fused to skin. He had seen it in the labs enough to hate it, which meant the file he was currently looking at was wrong. For one, it never mentioned a mask, despite having visits from social workers from a month ago, and one house check that was required for an emancipated minor to get before getting an apartment. None of the workers remembered the check or mister Kurusu, which meant he had been lying. Nedzu clapped as he realized it. “Well well, Mr. Kurusu. I do hope you keep being so very curious. If you begin attending my school, I think we will have such a good time.” Without another thought he made another slot in 1-A for Akira, bumping out the purple-haired student with the adhesive quirk. He could weather any backlash that might come from it, but if he missed this opportunity, he would regret it. Of course, he added a note at the end. If Akira Kurusu passed his exam, he would become a hero, if not, he was certain Aizawa would be interested in the home address of the most likely candidate for his newest vigilante.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, tons of comments and it hasn't even been a month? Thank you so so much. As I said I work at a hospital, so let's not expect a schedule for this. But I'll try my best.
> 
> Thanks to MystikOwl for the edits! : )


	6. Testing Testing

Akira drummed his fingers on his chair. It had been two damn weeks sice he broke the last vault, and he was barely any closer to figuring out the map that he knew Futaba designed. Who else puts the key to the map in a code you can only crack with the final prize code to old video games. So he sat and worked out the game to the first coordinate. Jirou paused as she went through the small kata on her ax Akira had taught her while the roof sat empty. She looked to him for a moment as she leaned on her weapon of choice. “You okay sensei? You’ve been staring at that map whenever I do solo work since we started a couple of weeks ago.”

Akira shook his head. “Sorry, from looking it up the rest of the vaults were hidden. Finding them is hard, but I luckily have a map. Unfortunately, the key is bit tricky, so I have to code break.” He let out a sigh, tapping his hand on the notebook beside him. “It’s infuriating, and I’m doing this instead of studying for my entrance exam tomorrow.”

There was a clatter beside him as he said that, and when he looked up Jirou was staring at him in anger. “Really sensei, you’re sitting here wasting time on me and a map when you’ve got an exam, I thought you weren’t in school anymore?”

Akira winced. “I haven’t been in school for a while, call it a gap period. I was focusing on my... other duties. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to if I didn’t catch the eye of some weirdo from a high school nearby.”

Jirou paused as she looked at him. “Really, most of the local high schools are kinda uptight for being in such a small area, being close to U.A. does that.”

Akira smirked out of habit. “Really? Good thing the weirdo was from U.A. then, he didn’t seem to uptight at all.”

Akira had to contain his laughter as Jirou froze, at least until she began to rush him as her ax trailed behind her. He only had a second before she was on him, hoisting him up. “Then you have to get ready now! Their one of the top-rated schools in the country, you’ll need every second of studying and practice you can get.” Once he was standing she began pushing him towards the door back to the stairwell. “I think I still have the study-guide I got in my backpack, so you should be able to at least get something done tonight.”

Akira rolled his eyes as she pushed him down the stairs. “Jirou, I won’t be able to do much tonight. Besides, when it comes to academic basics most tests clock me as third-year in high school. I should be fine.”

Jirou shook her head. “Look sensei, plug up some of that old music you like and study, then get to bed. You said we weren’t meeting tomorrow for training, but I’m still gonna show up to hear how you did, and I don’t like what you say I’ll kick your ass.”

Akira scoffed as they approached his apartment. “Bold of you to assume you can take me, you haven’t landed a hit yet.”

Jirou pushed him to his door, her ax still dragging behind her, getting a weird look from Izuku who was walking into his apartment before ducking inside quickly. “Sensei, if you don’t make it in I will play you like a guitar and break you when I’m done like an old-school rocker.”

Akira rolled his eyes as he opened the door and stepped into his apartment. As Jirou began digging into her bag he moved to the case that had been sitting in the corner for two weeks. He had been focusing on the laptop, learning about his friends as they graduated and moved on from his passing.But there was still the note, sitting atop the mask that had sent him scurrying with a flash of flame. As Jirou threw a guide in his hands and left with vague threats he tossed it aside and walked to the case. He opened it easily, flicking open the lid without a second thought. Megido Inferno still sat there, pristine and horrifying. Skull’s mask still rested peacefully, right beside the envelope. 

Akira’s hand shook as he grabbed the envelope, opening it with trembling fingers. The only thing inside was a small thank you card, hand-drawn illustrations covered the front, done by the steady hands of Yusuke. He smiled at the sketches and markings that seemed to encircle the card in chains, and in the center, a one-winged angel. The halo cracked and shattered as it ascended despite its broken appearance. Akira smiled as he opened it, reading it aloud as he leaned back.

“Hey there leader, we decided just leaving a dead drop with all our stuff was boring, so we all picked a spot where we’d put our own vault. Ryuji had to put his stuff in Leblanc because his vault is somewhere that smuggling a case with a fake gun and mask might be sketchy, and even Makoto couldn’t get it in. ANyways we made it a scavenger hunt, so go nuts. And as a little bonus, these masks aren’t replicas. After you left the metaverse was kinda gone, but kinda not. We have all of our masks except yours and we want you to have them. So get on it leader! We’re rooting for you.  
Sincerely,  
The Theives Guild (Phantom Thieves Of Heart)”

Akira paused at the signatures. It wasn’t just the thieves, but all of them. Dr. Takemi, Ohya, Sojiro, every person who learned what he was had signed it. A lone pawprint told him Mona had made it as well. He wiped his eyes, calmly moving to his shadowbox that held Sojiro’s recipe and opened it. With some readjusting the thank you card sat underneath the recipe easily. He closed the box and turned to the open case. He smiled softly, no teeth showing as he ignored the small tracks running down his cheeks. “Well, I guess I can be undercover then, right?”

He reached down to the mask, grasping it in his hands as blue flames leaped towards him. He ignored them, raising the mask to his face. There was a flash, and Akira felt different. He felt a bit slower, but in exchange, he moved more easily. He took a step and stomped instead of his normal light step. He stumbled, feeling new strength in his limbs. His clothes were also different. The texture of his new outfit different. He stumbled to the bathroom, struggling with newfound strength. He leaned onto the bathroom sink, looking in the mirror. His hands were clutched around his old mask, holding it even while he struggled to acclimate to the changes in his body. He locked onto his own eyes, deep pools of grey surrounded by a steel mask that was unchanged from its previous death tableau.

That was the most minor of the changes. He now wore an unzipped leather jacket over a scratched. Up red shirt. Stark white from an undershirt peeked through the tears. A staff with three golden rings sat on his back, but with a mild thought, it was gone. Disappeared to wherever the weapons of the less pocket laden thieves stored their weapons. Joker looked down at a pair of jeans on his legs, running shoes in black on his feet. He smiled up at the mirror, looking like a doppelganger of the friend he called brother. “Oh Hell yeah. I can go to school like this.”

He went to bed shortly after, placing his mask in the jacket’s pocket before flame engulfed him, leaving him in his normal clothes. He wanted to wake up with his alarm but instead awoke to a song as some unfortunate fool called him. He grasped the damned box roughly before bringing it to his ear. “Who wants to die today?”

The cheerful voice of Nedzu laughed in his ear. “Oh dear, and I thought you might be a morning person like me. I just wanted to ensure you had ample time to arrive at the exam. Since you never mentioned how close you lived I assumed two hours would be plenty of time to reach our campus.”

Akira grunted, hauling himself up. “Yeah, I’ll be there early. You were cagey earlier, will I meet the principal before the exam?”

Another laugh sounded as Akira grumbled his way to the bathroom, throwing off his nightclothes and tossing on jeans and a comfortable polo shirt from his supplier. It had a picture of a strange metal mask and the phrase mine written on it directly over his heart, but it was small and seemed like nothing more than an obscure pop-culture reference. Nedzu finished giggling, but Akira could still feel the smug smile. Through the phone though. “Well of course he’ll be there, but I doubt he’ll introduce himself. He’s a bit of a sadist, he loves keeping his students guessing.”

Akira snorted, a half-smile flitting over his mouth. “So he’s like you then. Got it. I’ll be there by Seven-thirty if you want to meet me when I get there to mess with me right before an exam then don’t forget to look up.”

He hung up on the rat, grabbing a messenger bag and tossing in some curry and coffee from a thermos before tossing his thief package in it and pausing. Megido was missing from the case. The empty slot looking at him forlornly. He felt his heart rate spike before a thought hit him. He dismissed Ryuji’s staff, what if he dismissed Megido as well. He smiled, that just meant he could call it back. He left his apartment and made his way to the roof. It was a good day for a run. Rooftops flew from under him as blue flames began to coat his body. As he landed on a neighboring roof his polo was gone, replaced with his own Skull outfit. He rolled with the impact, making his way across rooftops. 

The predatory smile that hung on Akira’s face didn’t falter as he approached U.A. If anything, it grew as a familiar rat sat on the wall looking around. Akira laid on the speed, going as fast as possible as he reached the last corner of the building and jumped. Separating the building ledge from the wall to the school was a twenty-foot gap that housed a main road. If the jumper was smart, they would have jumped down and crossed the street. If the jumper was foolhardy the might attempt to jump from streetlight to streetlight. Akira Kurusu was an adrenaline junkie with no regard for his own life, and he attempted to jump from building to wall. Adding in the sidewalk a twenty-five-foot leap. He laughed as he soared through the air. He felt eyes lock onto him as he spun through the air. He landed on the wall with bent knees, throwing up a pair of devil horns in homage to his best friend. “Nailed it!”

Nedzu clapped, a smile lighting up. “I was hoping you would do something interesting when you arrived. Are you ready for your exam?”

Akira rolled his eyes. “Nedzu-sama, I am always ready to pit my skills against something. The only reason I might have refused was that I wasn’t sure if I wanted into a high-school.” Akira sat on the wall, facing the large pair of buildings that made the bulk of U.A. “But, now that I’m here, I think I’ll like it.”

Nedzu nodded. “It is my hope that you will. Shall I lead you to the exam room?” Akira nodded, following the rat as he jumped of the wall. Akira tried extremely hard to ignore the rubber ducky like squeak that sounded with each of Nedzu’s steps. He failed, smirking as they walked through double doors and made their way to an auditorium in the middle of one of the buildings. It was mostly empty, a few adults chatting on the stage as they set up tables Akira moved to the seat Nedzu gestured to and sat down, reclining back and watching as the teachers set up the area. 

He melded into the shadows easily, shutting his jacket to hide the bright color of his shirt as the darkened seating area shrouded him in darkness. Nedzu was talking to one of the teachers, who nodded and smiled. Their hair was a full banana of blond horror that seemed to wiggle as the teacher emoted, pointing around and directing the teachers while shouting out obscure musical lyrics. Akira listened to the impromptu concert of the shouting remix of the current bottom 50 songs while leaning into his chair. After a little while of wishing he brought ear plugs the door crashed open. A boy rushed in with more winds than his speed allowed. “OH MY GOSH! I’M HERE AT U.A. IT’S SO COOL!”

With a groan, Akira leaned back into his chair. Other students followed the loud one in, finding seats closer to the front than Akira’s own hidden seat. The teachers quickly finished, looking over the crowd. One of them, a large man seemingly made out of concrete paused. “We’re missing one.”

There was a shuffle as the thief stood up, moving with calm confidence. “Not missing, just waiting until we start before being surrounded by strangers.” He found a student with two-tone hair who seemed to be quieter than the rest and sat down beside him, looking at the stage expectantly. The teachers began to talk about the academic portion of the test, which Akira only kindof listened to, instead focusing on Nedzu in the corner. He was in the shadows of the back, watching with the predatory smile he always used when he was thinking. Akira shuttered at that smile. Nedzu liked whatever he was thinking about, which Akira thought might be dangerous.

The talk was short, and soon they were told to head to the tables and begin the test. Akira sat down at the table farthest from the door, keeping an eye on it as he grabbed a pencil from the center of the table and looked over the massive hunk of papers that were the exam he was expected to take. He didn’t know if there was a break time or a time limit, but he wasn’t worried about that. He opened up the papers and looked over the first section. Math. He grinned, starting the process of the first equation without a single worry in his mind. 

The math flew by, and chemistry was easy with his creation of thieves tools forcing him to learn a few college courses worth of chemicals and reactions to keep from blowing up his desk. He tore through it while humming a song. Next was English, which he was fluent in. Not even worth a thought. Then there was a section on... sign language? He looked at the paper with a raised eyebrow and thoughts on each question. He technically knew a little bit, but he hardly could be called fluent. Not even conversational really, just enough to tell his team something without any noise to alert guards and shadows to their presence. He let out a breath as the sign language portion ended, deciding to take five. He saw a few of the other students standing up and stretching, which he did as well. 

For five minutes he let his body wake up, knowing he was ahead of most of his classmates by the progress they’d made on their own tests. He sat back down when his internal clock hit five minutes, grabbing a fresh pencil and flipping the page. Japanese. Honestly a bit more difficult than English, if only because he still used to many shortcuts. He went through it slowly but didn’t feel bad at the end. It ended with a portion on moral quandaries, which he barely thought about as he did. He knew his ideals already, family first, civilians second, himself third. Every question had to do with heroics for some reason, so he didn’t even slow down as he finished it off and flipped the last page. 

He leaned back in his chair, smirking at the next closest student being a little over three-quarters of the way through. Akira shut his eyes, letting time wash over him as he waited for everyone to finish. He didn’t doze off, not wanting to seem too cocky. He let his arm dangle as the time flew by. Nedzu moved slowly up the stage a while later, the squeak of his paws making Akira zero in on him as he made his way to the podium. “Pencils down children, time is up.”

Akira stood quickly and noticed his mistake when he did. Only two other students had finished, and even if the others were close to finished it was slightly suspicious to be one of the only people finished. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he should minimize his profile. Even if he was recommended. Nedzu’s throat cleared, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “We shall move on to the second and final portion of our test for today. Everyone who was told to report elsewhere please meet the instructors outside and they shall lead you to your specialized practical. The rest of you will wait here as we prepare the next room for your practical test.”

Akira nodded, matching the other students, with the exception of the loud one, who shouted out a loud heck yeah at that. Akira rolled his eyes, but couldn’t find it in him to actually dislike the guy. He was like Ryuji, loud and happy. A few of the students started talking to each other, but Akira stepped back. From the shadows, he watched the other teens talk and laugh. Most didn’t seem to really know each other, with the two-colored kid dismissing the wannabe Ryuji out of hand. Akira felt his foot move forward but resisted. This wasn’t his friend, so it wasn’t his problem. He would much prefer to do something productive. He flipped out his phone, picking a contact and calling.

It was only one ring before a clam voice answered. “Hey kid, you got more stuff to sell me? Or are you finally letting me visit that house I helped you buy?”

Akira smirked into the phone, leaning on a table. “Neither. I think I’m making it into this school, and since you listed yourself as my boss I’ll need your signature for my job paperwork. Think we could meet up so I can get out of your hair?”

There was a soft laugh from the line. “Oh, I can do that. But If I’m saying you have a job with me then I’ll actually need to have you work. After all, it would be illegal for me to lie about that, wouldn’t it?”

The phone hung up instantly, the beep of a text going through as Akira rolled his eyes. Shady connections were always like that, but he figured it would work out. It always did. He locked the phone and put it into his jacket pocket. As he tried to plot what to do since he apparently had another part of the test soft footsteps began to sound off. Akira looked up and smiled. Making his way to the stage was Eraserhead, looking absolutely pissed off. He made it to the front of the room and looked over the potential students. “Okay kids, here’s your practical. There are five heroes in this building. Everyone besides me has been dismissed or recruited, so all you have to do is find them. Use your quirk, use your brain, whatever helps you get the job done.” There was a pause as all the students stared at Eraserhead for a moment, only to receive a glare back. “What, do you think villains will give you a warning? Go get someone!”

The class scattered, rushing towards the open campus like released hounds. Akira took a slower option, looking over the room as his eyes flashed red. Footprints appeared before him, glowing a soft blue against the ground. He put one hand in a pocket, the other dangling loosely as he followed them. It wasn’t hard, the other students all rushed around the building, wind, and ice cracking as Akira turned on his third eye. He was thankful it only tracked important steps as five sets of footprints began to glow softly on the floor. Four were bootprints, but one was a set of familiar paws. Akira didn’t spend long picking which one to follow.


	7. Hey "Dad"

Following footsteps was easy. Akira went down the hallway with one hand in his pocket, stomping without any real regard for his noise as they snaked through the school. When he reached the center of a hallway they stopped, half cut of by one of the floor tiles. Akira let out a huff of breath, turning his head until he noticed the water fountain had a faint glow to it. He walked up, seeing blue light shining from the vents. He grabbed the corner of the metal and opened it up. The grate flew off into the ground, revealing a small button inside. He smiled, pressing it once. He turned around at the sound of movement, finding the tile opened wide. Akira smiled, jumping into the thin passage and continuing his leisurely walk through the pawprints.

Nedzu watched in his office as his selected student calmly followed his exact path through the school. He raised an eyebrow as Akira paused at the place he entered the tunnel, looking around in mild confusion. Then Akira walked to the water fountain and ripped off the hidden door, smirking as he pressed the button to open up the floor. Nedzu smiled wide, watching as his future student hopped into the tunnel, crouching slightly as he made his way into the tunnels. It wouldn’t take long for him to reach Nedzu’s office like this, and the other students were hunting in a much less direct manner. Todoroki had opted to freeze rooms full and walk-in, only needing a quick check to clear the room. Which is how he managed to find Vlad King who was in cover behind a bookcase. The others were all sprinting everywhere with only one making heavy use of his quirk. Inasa was flying outside the building, looking through the windows silently. It was a surprisingly wise tactic from the loud teenager and one that would inevitably work if all the teachers weren’t found. He stopped thinking about the others when he saw Akira open the tunnel outside his reception room. 

Akira looked at the door in front of him as he watched the footsteps go inside. He reached out to the handle, only to find it securely locked. He groaned, peeking into the lock with one eye. There was a ton of tumblers, obviously, it was meant to be a secured room. Also obviously he wouldn’t let that stop him. He reached into his jacket, pulling out a lockpick and sliding it into the door. It took twenty seconds. In twenty seconds there was a resounding thunk as the tumblers gave into his will and the door cleanly opened. Akira walked in with a smirk and then cursed. The footsteps went straight into another locked room, with an electronic lock. He stared at it, knowing he had never bothered to take Futaba up on her hacking lessons. He could add it to the mountain of regrets later, for now, he had a much more important job. How to get in. A moment of investigation revealed no vents or windows to his target, but there was a keypad that was begging for a move he hadn’t used since the bank.

He walked up calmly, hoping there was indeed a safety system built-in. He reared back his leg and kicked the pad hard. There was a shower of electricity that barely fazed him as he walked into the office, and laid eyes on Nedzu. “Tag, you’re it.”

Nedzu clapped, happily bouncing in place as he nodded. “Of course, excellent work young Kurusu. I saw you following my footsteps from here, and picking the lock on the door was masterful.” Nedzu looked at the shower of sparks coming from his doorframe. “Though, your technology skills could use a bit of work.”

Akira shrugged as he sat down in the chair. “Meh, I got in, didn’t I?” He leaned back in the chair, propping his head up with his arms “Besides, I’m used to having a bit more support. I don’t like running solo, leaves you open to weaknesses.” 

Nedzu watched as Akira looked around the room with calm eyes before his eyes shifted from red to gray, his quirk deactivating. “You seem a bit paranoid principal.”

Nedzu’s smile turned predatory, much like the first day they met. “So you did read the plaque on the door. I was wondering when you would notice.”

Akira nodded, dusting off his jeans with his hands. “Yeah, though I won’t pretend to know why you didn’t tell me. I can get a note from my boss clearing which days exactly I can get off.” He tapped his hand on the desk, looking slightly stressed. “He said I won’t work on Tuesday Thursday and Fridays. I’ll pull afternoon shifts every other day, so I can schedule it around school. I’ll have to leave by one on the workdays.” He tapped his fingers softly. “He also said I’d be off for internships and festivals and the like, which is fine.”

Nedzu looked at the teenager that was obviously thinking of other things and leaned forward. “If the cut hours will cause you financial strain we can offer help within reason. There’s some work you can do in the mornings. Cleaning, sorting, that sort of thing.”

Akira shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine Sensei, just means I’ll have to cut back a little bit, it’s fine.” He smirked at Nedzu and leaned forward. “So I take it I made it in?”

Nedzu laughed. “Assuming you passed the written portion you will start at the top of the school year in 1 -A. I will have your acceptance or denial letter sent with everyone else’s in three days.”

Akira nodded, standing up. “Do I need to stick around, or can I go?”

Nedzu tapped his chin. “Well, we normally have a meeting with all the recommendation students after the test, but I won’t count it against you if you leave.”

Akira nodded. “Cool, I’m gonna go meet my boss and pick up a shift, as well as get some paperwork for you to file with my work stuff. I’ll be around if you need me, but from four to seven until school starts I’ll be busy. Drop a line whenever Nedzu.” He turned around, leaving the campus with a slow gait. He smiled as he made it across the street and ran up the fire escape. His commute was going to be awesome. Sure it would be quicker if he took the train, but he wasn’t a coward. 

He walked into his apartment with a smile and a slide. He quickly switched to his normal mask and felt his body relax slightly, the increase in muscle and strength making way for his more natural ease and grace of movement. Akira stretched his fingers before a loud chime from his phone disrupted him. He pulled it out, only to find it wasn’t ringing. His hand moved slowly as he reached inside his jacket pocket, pulling an anonymous flip phone. He flipped it, answering the call. “Hello.”

There was a rasping voice on the other side, one that tried to send a shiver up Akira’s spine. If Akira hadn’t traded blows with Satanael at his back in person it might have worked. “Kurogiri and Sensei said you were pretty good. I’ll offer you all the info you want if you join us on a raid on U.A. One night of help and all your useless questions have answers. Sound fair?”

Akira smiled, shuffling in place slightly. “Oh, the big bads finally want my help? I guess I could lend a hand. But I do want to meet first. I have to head out and meet a contact, think I could meet you at the bar tonight?”

There was a pause, filled only by a faint scratching noise that sounded a bit too rough and fleshy to be normal. “Fine. Meet at the bar tonight after eight. Me and Kurogiri will be waiting. Don’t be too late.”

Akira rolled his eyes as the call disconnected. “Dramatic jerk.” He flipped the phone shut and sent a text to Jirou saying he was going to work before putting his street phone on the counter. He grabbed the laptop, having fully cleared it of personal data and putting every video and text file on a massive thumb drive currently uploading onto his personal computer in his bedroom. He grabbed his Crow mask from its spot in his ceiling boards before walking out of his front door, locking the door behind him. 

He waved to Ms. Midoriya as she made her way back into her apartment in a set of scrubs. She smiled and waved, but made her way quickly into her home. With that done, Akira made his way to Kamino, heading to the address he got via text during his test.

The building was small and openly admitted to being a bar and nothing else. It had no name, just a neon sign saying bar half-heartedly flickering above the door. Akira walked in with his crow mask, looking for all the world like he belonged there. It was nearly empty when he walked in, moving slowly as he scanned over the crowd. His eyes paused on a gray-haired man smoking a cigarette with a smile so wide you could see his golden tooth. Akira sat across from him with a nod, pulling a small bag from his jacket and tossing it across the table with a nod. “Afternoon Giran, consider that my payment. Dad.”

Giran chuckled, spilling a variety of gems and coins from the bag and looking them over. “Brat, if I expected to get a payday out of you today I wouldn’t meet in a place with no name.” He nodded at the gems and smiled. “But, I’ll take it. Your finder’s fee will be in your account by tomorrow, now what do you need my signature on exactly?”

Akira leaned his chair back. “As I said, I’m attending U.A. The issue is I have a job to do and need to miss a few days every week, for that I need my boss’s signature. So you’re my boss now.”

Giran smiled wide. “Should have expected this, writing myself as your guardian was sure to bring some smoke my way.” He took a drag while tapping a finger on his drink. “Okay,I can do that, but there will be a price.”

Akira leaned forward. “That’s what the loot’s for. Take it from my finders fee. If its more than that you can take it from future jobs.”

Giran shook his head. “No, you’re a long term investment. If I keep you happy and paid then I’ll make way more than cutting your pay for every favor.” He took a sip of his drink, gold tooth glinting in the inadequate light of the bar. “No, I want to swing by your place once a week. You feed me dinner, I make sure you’re safe and taking care of yourself. I’m already your guardian, if I act more like it it will only improve my cover and give me updates on your current jobs.”

Akira stared at him for a long moment, the grin on Giran’s face never faltering. Akira raised his hand, sending a cheap beer to his table. “Maybe. Tuesday evenings could yours. But if you get a long-term perk from this then I will too.” Akira took a sip of his drink, before holding out a hand. 

Giran raised an eyebrow but reached into his jacket. “You know these things will kill you, right kid?”

Giran pulled out his smokes, freeing one from its case before passing it to the teenager across from him. Akira lit it quickly, taking a deep breath. “It won’t be the first thing to try. I have a code system I need to crack. If you find someone who’s good at code-breaking maybe you send them my way and we start working together. Of course, if I do that then you’ll get some rewards too. Say, some pre-quirk history or items that a collector might like.” He pulled out the laptop his friends left for him, sliding it across the table. “Made before the first quirk manifested and full of trivia from that era. A few books are saved on it, which I have saved personal copies of, as well as a few seasons of anime and tv from then. Pretty good stuff if you like that era of story-telling.”

Giran’s eyes widened, propping it open and looking at the post-it note that shared the password. He got in, looking through the files. “Kid, if I had known about this earlier... well I would have treated you to something nicer,” Akira smirked as he took another lazy drag. His lips curled around the cigarette but softly. Giran made a few motions before nodding. “Okay, you’ll get a good cut from this. Selling ancient books to publishing firms is always a good way to make bank, and the old TV is surprisingly hard to come by nowadays. I’m guessing I don’t want to know where this came from?”

Akira shrugged, replacing smoke with booze. “Call it a trade secret. Also, my questions for the group you put me in contact with have changed, but I’ll get answers from them soon enough. So besides the codebreaker and the money I’m taken care of.”

Giran chuckled. “That’s not the taken care of I meant. How are your groceries looking? Is your kitchen clean? If I’m your guardian I have to know these things. Especially if the heroes swing by that fancy address we out on your paperwork and ask me how you’re doing.”

Akira groaned. “Nobody has been holding my hand for the past year, I don’t need you to start.”

Giran rolled his eyes. “Look brat. I’m not gonna hold your hand if it’s a pigsty I’ll kick you into cleaning. I’m doing this to cover my ass. If you say no I’ll have to revoke my guardianship and put a third-party in charge. This is a mutual deal, one that if we take it means a win-win.”

Akira chewed his lip for a minute straight, the only response from Giran was the clack of keys as he trolled through the laptop. Akira finally let out a scoff. “Fine. Tuesdays are yours now. Five in the evening, I’ll make dinner or you’ll bring it. We’ll trade out so it’s fair. But if you try to info dig or share anything in my apartment I’ll disappear and burn you down. That’s a promise.”

Giran laughed, finishing his drink and standing up. “Good deal kid. I’ll be by in four days then, keep yourself safe until then.” Akira watched as Giran payed at the bar, pointing to the table and sliding a handful of bills to the bartender. He finished off his drink, glancing at the time. He nodded once, standing up and walking out the door.

The bar Kurogiri ran was still pristine and clean, and Ren Amimiya walked in like he owned it. He sauntered up to the bar, sitting easily and locking eyes with the mist demon in front of him. “Sake and a milkshake, same as last time.”

Kurogiri nodded, disappearing behind the bar as the clink of bottles sounded beneath it. A teal haired man who couldn’t be to much older than Akira looked at him. “So, you’re Crow. I heard you wanted some information.” He slid a piece of paper over to Akira. “Consider it a down payment.”

Ren wasted no time in ripping it up. “Found it already I need new info now. Several figures of unknown importance from directly before the age of quirks. If you can find that for me, I’ll help.”

The boy glared at him, his pinky raised as he gripped the bar counter. “Do you think we’re a joke? You come to us for information and find it before we have a chance to call you back? We could kill you for wasting our time like that.”

Ren looked at the man cooly, never flinching back. “That is a risk you take when you pay in information. I have my own plans which make speed of the essence, and you were to slow. If you find me info on Makoto Nijima, Ryuji Sakamoto, Futaba Sakura, Yusuke Kitagawa, Haru Okumura, and possibly a person connected to them named Morgana.” He watched as a bowl of sake made its way in front of him, and took a refined sip. “I’ll participate in your raid whenever it is for information on them. Specifically, I’d like places they worked, frequented, and if you can find it, how they died.”

The man glared at Ren for a moment, before he groaned. “I hate working with other PC’s, I play solo for a reason. What can you do? Super-strength, ranged attacks, invincibility? What do you bring to me?”

Ren smiled under his red mask, leaning back. “In a fight my quirk lets me see attacks before they come, pinpoint enemy weaknesses, and exploit them in the most brutal fashion possible.” He stared at the man with a grin. “Nothing escapes the eyes of a crow.”

The man grunted, turning back to the bar. “We don’t have a date for the raid. It’ll be in enemy territory, with only one target on our kill-list. You show up and keep your grid under control, and we’ll give you everything we can find.”

Ren nodded as the milkshake landed beside the sake, Kurogiri staying silent. Ren finished his sake, and moved the milkshake closer, leaning over the bar. “So we’re going to kill someone?” He paused, a million counter plans running through his head. Finally, the outline of a plan formed. If Goro could do it, why not him? “Okay, I can live with another kill on my conscious. Shoot me the details a week before the raid and you’ll have a new rouge for your group, just don’t waste me.” Ren stood up, grabbing his milkshake and throwing a handful of bills on the counter. “That’ll cover the mug, I want to head home.” He took a sip as he began to walk out. “Oh and I do have one rule. I don’t kill kids, I’ll fight them if you want me to, but non-lethal only.”

The teal haired man nodded. “Whatever. I’m Shigaraki, we’ll call when it’s time to raid.”


	8. First Dive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Netherrealm

Akira crashed into his bed as he rubbed his face. He hadn’t even bothered putting on pajamas, instead just throwing off his outfit and laying in his boxers as he stared at the ceiling. He had taken a moment to switch to his Joker mask on his way home, and everything else he should do to go to sleep seemed like too much of a bother. He grumbled at the world before turning to the only light in the room. The small ring from the Cricket in his room bathing the area in soft green light. It was basically an Alexa, with a few extra features. He had barely set it up, throwing it in with the moving stuff and leaving it there, but he had done one thing with it. “Cricket, play Haru’s song on loop.” His bedroom was wreathed in soft hums and murmurs from his friend singing into a microphone. He rolled onto his side, trying to ignore the slightly damp feeling in his cheeks as darkness enveloped him.

Akira woke up to someone knocking on his door. He spit out a few half-formed curse words as he rolled out of bed. The sound of Haru singing still played through his apartment as he stumbled to his door. He opened it without checking who was there, making Ms. Midoriya jump in place. There was a pause as they both realized what Akira was wearing. Akira paused, debating whether or not he should just shut the door and try to go back to sleep, only for Ms. Midoriya to cross her arms and look at him angrily. “Young man, I don’t know why you’re here alone, but we do not answer doors in nothing but out under-roos. Now turn around and put on some proper clothes before we talk.” Akira flinched back, the field of maternal energy too strong. It forced him back as Ms. Midoriya crashed into his house like a force of nature. “Though your apartment is clean. Don’t tell me you just woke up?” She looked at her watch before tittering. “Young man, it’s nearly eleven! Go get some clothes on, then head over to my apartment. I have some leftover breakfast that should still be hot. It’s a good thing I came to check on you, or you might have slept the day away!”

Akira watched as his neighbor walked off muttering under her breath, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He looked up at the clock hanging above his cafe. It was indeed a little bit past ten-thirty. He shook his head. “Okay, slept in for the first time in forever. That’s fine. Also, my neighbor has decided I’m her kid for the moment. Also fine.” He slapped himself in the face to wake up, shaking his limbs while moving to his room to change. He was glad she walked off before he turned around though. He really didn’t want to explain the tattoo on his back.

A shower and change later, he was out the door. Or at least at the next door over. He knocked politely, standing with both hands in his pocket. It wasn’t long before Ms. Midoriya opened the door, a smile on her face. “Oh, there you are dear. I was worried you had blown off your neighbor. Heaven knows a young man like you probably has plenty to do.”

Akira followed as she walked in, feeling cramped in the much more lived-in apartment. “Not today—my student isn’t coming until three, but that training is gonna be tough on both of us.”

Ms. Midoriya smiled as she opened her oven and pulled out a plate from the depths. “Oh, so you teach? Izuku was wondering what you did before he went out to seek out a hero fight. I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect you to be a teacher; you seem too young.”

Akira smiled as she passed the plate to him, stacked high with bacon and eggs—far better than the microwave-bowl breakfast he had planned. “I’m not a teacher ma’am, I do odd-jobs for my guardian, and he covers my bills and pays me. It’s a good relationship. Especially since I wouldn’t trust anyone to live with me.”

Ms. Midoriya laughed. “Don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old; call me Inko if you have to call me anything. And I’m sure you can’t be that bad to live with, especially if you teach in your free time. And after what you told my baby boy, I couldn’t leave you without something to say thank you. He’s been waiting for his letter back from U.A. for weeks now. Apparently, they’re sending everyone the letters tomorrow.”

Akira looked at her. “Really? I was told it wouldn’t be for a bit longer than that.”

Inko nodded, moving to the kitchen and doing dishes from earlier that morning. “Oh, I got the email this morning. Apparently, whoever they had for the recommendation exam was faster at grading than they thought. Something about changing from the normal grader to the principal. They sent the letters in the mail today with overnight shipping.” 

Akira nodded, beginning to eat his lunch with a smile. “Cool, I was wondering whether I’d get in or not. I guess we’ll see tomorrow.”

Inko paused at her sink, looking forward for a moment. “Wait, you’re trying to go to U.A. too?”

Akira nodded. “Yep, got a recommendation for the work I do at my odd-job. It’s mostly security work, and someone important found out I had been fighting low-tier villains for work. Apparently, they really wanted the kid who’s been being a kind of low-key hero to join the pros. I only accepted because it might open a few doors I need to be opened.” He kept exactly which doors to himself. She didn’t need to know why he needed classified records of ancient history—something that might hint as to why a certain jail cell he’d found was empty.

Inko smiled at him. “My boy has wanted to be a hero forever. He has a servant’s heart, ready to help everyone as much as he can. I worry about him. He’d give up an arm if it spared someone else. It makes me proud, but worried too.”

Akira nodded, having a flash of memory. Futaba’s limp body arcing into the fleshy ground made by the icon of God. Their eventual success came at a heavy cost, and he could understand Inko’s thoughts on heroic tendencies. His appetite disappeared. “Yeah, I had a little sister who died being a hero.” He leaned back, dropping his fork on the table. “She saved so many lives, but after the fact, I never thought about the people still alive because of her. I could only think about her body falling from the sky like a nightmare.”

Inko stared at her neighbor. She liked him alright, and no boy this young should be forced to live on his own. But, upon learning that his little sister had died being a hero, as well as his parents obviously being out of the picture, raised several concerning questions. How old was his sister? 15? 14? Lord, hope she wasn’t even younger than that. And he had watched. That haunted look in his eyes, despite his relaxed body language. It couldn’t be faked. She walked around the counter, giving the boy a hug as soon as she was in reach.

The house was silent for a moment as Akira realized the bomb he just dropped while distracted by food. He wanted to curse and run from the slip-up he had just made. He wanted to try and make Inko forget he ever said it, but when was the last time he was truly hugged? He thought for a moment while enjoying the moment. It was before Yaldabaoth, when he found the thieves in the Velvet Room. They had all tackled him to the ground, showing him their love. He shuddered as Inko backed away, and slowly relaxed. Inko smiled at him. “Tell me about your sister, dear.”

Akira leaned forward, wishing he had a stiff drink, but instead pulled out a box of cigarettes, looking at Inko with questioning eyes. Inko smiled and opened the balcony. He lit the smoke slowly, taking a patient drag. “My little sister died when she was 16 years old. She was a year younger than me, and a complete nerd.” He laughed, his hand shaking as he took another drag. “It had been a good year for her. She was an orphan, and the man who had taken me in took her in before me. Her mother was killed for her research, and Futaba had been blamed in the cover-up. She was terrified of the outside and only talked to people she trusted, but she had started healing. She was going out and about again. Telling me about the newest games, going to pick them up without anyone beside her, everything you think an awkward teenager could do.” 

Akira took another drag, this one more desperate. “She... she was with me that day.” Akira’s eyes unfocused, looking at the skyline without seeing anything. “She could fly, and when a villain was attacking, she saw the person fighting him needed a few more seconds than he would get to finish his attack, and...” Akira took a deep breath, flicking the ash off his cigarette. “She charged. Going headfirst to the villain without a thought about her own safety. She was shot down, and they won. She was a hero, but she was still dead.”

Inko tapped his back with a comforting hand. “What was she like?”

Akira sighed, looking at the street below him. “Well... she was a wizard with computers. She had a bad habit of getting into places she shouldn’t online. But she loved games, constantly playing them online. On good days, she’d put on a headset and talk, but most of the time she would show up in online lobbies like a ghost and dominate games. She liked free for all games, no teams to drag her down. She was sweet, but snarky as all hell. We were coming up with everyone’s nicknames, and I suggested Pharaoh, since she locked herself in her room so much. She turned around and spoke for the first time in like five minutes. All she said was ‘I’ll curse you’. It was a silly little thing but...”

Inko giggled. “But it made all of you laugh, right? I have a friend like that. Though, she’s the opposite. Loud, crass, vulgar, but she stands up for her friends. Why, one time she...” As Inko droned on, Akira leaned on the railing and took another drag. He still listened to Inko talking, but he let the calm moment wash over him. Maybe he still did want someone to keep an eye on him. At least a little bit. 

Jirou arrived to Akira waving goodbye to his neighbor with a spring in his step. He seemed... lighter than the last few times she had seen him. She wanted to say it was because of U.A., but she somehow doubted it. She waved at him as he turned around, smiling at his cocky smirk. “Hey sensei, ready for training today?” 

Akira ran his hands through his hair, walking to his apartment calmly. “The real question is, are you ready for training today? We’re going to be doing my part-time job. A bit of janitorial and security work that the masses are sure to appreciate. If they ever find out anyways.” Jirou flinched, but a chuckle from Akira silenced her. “Don’t worry, it’s not vigilante stuff. It’s something I do as a community service that manages to pay a pretty steady rate.” Akira ducked inside his apartment and grabbed a large duffel bag that he slung over his shoulder. He paused for a moment, locking his door. “Come on, there’s an old subway station we can use. It’s abandoned, but it’s what I’ve been using for a while. Keep quiet because I think a gang might be using one of the side rooms as a hideout.”

Jirou stayed silent as she followed her sensei. He didn’t take the roofs like normal, forcing her to follow and learn what he called advanced movement. Or what Jirou called the reason she now hates streets. It only takes one tiring run over the crowds of Japan to realize why heroes stayed up high whenever possible. But this was different. Akira was taking back roads and alleys, making his way out of the alright neighborhood he lived in and crossing into the sketchier territory. They arrived at a subway station that looked to be lost to time. The sign was faded, and a rusted gate separated them from the platform. Akira stopped calmly, leaning against the wall. “Here we are. This is your first test—fail, and I’ll have to tone down your training. Pass, and you can get on a fast track to getting what you’ll need to be a hero. You ready?”

Jirou nodded, not trusting herself as Akira brought out his phone, unlocking it with a slide of his finger. He tapped the screen once, and the world melted. Her vision shimmered and warped, the broken subway station shifting from grime and grey to red and black. She suppressed the urge to scream, instead of focusing on Akira, and his image forced her scream to rush out like a river. He was smiling like a demon, flame covering him so hot it burned blue. He began to chuckle as his clothes shifted and changed. His sports jacket extended and thickened, while his shirt shuddered as the color changed. Jirou closed her eyes, desperately wishing for the world to make sense again. The laughter slowed, prompting Jirou to open her eyes.

The world had shifted; now she was in a smoothed prism of red and black, the tiles beneath her feet giving solid clicks as her shoes impacted from her stumbles. She looked to Akira, only to find him in his other clothes. Joker stood in front of her, a smirk on his face while he hooked an arm around her, steadying her as she stared in horror at the strange station around her. He patted her back twice, trying to snap her out of her daze. “Hey Grasshopper, you alright. You passed the first test, so we need to get focused, okay?”

Jirou nodded, feeling the arm supporting her, if only to cement the thought that this was real. “Okay. Okay. This isn’t real, is it? Or did I just get taken to... to... I dunno, discount hell?”

Akira chuckled as he sat Jirou down on a waiting area chair. “Not a bad description. You’re in the collective unconscious of humanity. Every thought, good or bad, lives here.” Akira rubbed his hair again. “It’s kind of a dangerous place, but I take care of the worst things around here, keep them from building up into something bad. We don’t need another wannabe god taking over Mementos again.” Akira looked over the Room. “That's the name of this place by the way. Mementos. Where thoughts and dreams come to die.”

Jirou shook her head, finding the only thing that seemed out of place. “What’s with the blue jail cell over there?”

Akira cocked his head. “You can see it? I guess that proves one of my theories. Well for what you need to know right now, it’s a doorway to my own personal little worldview. Don’t go there unless I say it’s okay, because the owner can be a bit... odd.”

Akira shook his head, moving forward. “Now then, I have a gift for your training here. First up, take these.” Akira pulled a few items from his bag. The first of which was her ax, which he tossed at her without warning. Jirou caught it, and nearly dropped it at the increased weight. It clanged to the ground, and the sheen of the blade was flawless. She set it down gently, not brave enough to test the sharpness of the blade as Joker stood up. He turned around, a bundle of clothes and a mask hanging from his arms. He handed it to her without much fanfare. “The thieves guild have always had uniforms, you can change it whenever, but this will get you started. I’m going to run into the cell, change while I’m gone.”

With that Akira turned to the jail cell, and walked through, disappearing from view. The Velvet Room was so familiar to him, and yet so different. No one was there to greet him as he looked over his cell. The door was wide open, a personal compendium of all the personas he’d gathered sitting on the lone desk. He walked over and opened it. Without the twins or Lavenza, he couldn’t execute personas as easily, but as the Electric Chair appeared in front of him, he was reminded of just how much he had managed to adapt. He looked at the figure sitting in the chair. No fear evident despite the bandana covering her eyes. He didn’t have any tarps, so he shut his eyes. With a flip of the lever, a short scream sounded, the thumps and scratches of the death thrashing from his own mind etching into his soul. He shook it off, another mental scar for the long list. He walked to the desk, opening the compendium and going down the list. “Know what, where is my wonderful little friend? I think I want a little bit of Wonderland back in my heart.”

He exited the Velvet Room with a smirk, feeling child-like giggling echo in his mind. He watched as Jirou stood in her new thieving attire. It had cost Joker a small fortune, but with a little potential help he could make it back easily. She wore an armored jacket, with carbon nanotubes mixed with the threading, making them much sturdier than they had any right to be. The shirt was simply a graphic shirt for a band Jirou had been listening to near-constantly. The jeans were worn and weathered, which didn’t distract from the pouches and patches coating them. Her ax was hooked through a hoop on her back, lazily swinging from her stretches. Her mask was a simple motorcycle helmet with musical notes scratched in. She could change it later, but as it stood now it was a good disguise. You couldn’t see anything besides her earlobes due to some strategic holes Akira had cut in the bottom of the helmet. He waved his arm, gesturing her to follow him as he descended the stairs. The squelch of flesh floor as they descended marking their passage. 

Jirou was obviously uncomfortable, nearly flinching at every step as Joker walked forward, him not even bothered by the dark place to which they had descended. When she finally got the guts to ask her burning question, Joker cut her off. “You want to know where we are, right?” They stepped off the staircase and onto a train platform. Joker looked at the map posted on the wall for a moment before nodding. “It’s a fair question. This is Mementos. Or at least, what’s left of it.” He jumped off the platform, walking the tracks without a worry. “It’s pretty dangerous, but I’m not planning on taking you any deeper than this level. But from here we can get almost anywhere in Japan in a few hours.” He tilted his head slightly, before raising a finger to his mouth. “And here’s where the training kicks in. Get ready.”

Jirou drew her ax as quietly as she could, flinching at the quite screech of metal on metal. She readied it as a repetitive thump reached her ears. From the bend of the tracks, a goliath approached. A black outline in the shape of a man stomped through the tracks, seeming to wander with no purpose. Joker didn’t hesitate. He charged forward, his jacket billowing as he charged. Jirou froze as she watched her sensei jump through the air, his hand resting on the white mask over the shadowy head of the creature. Joker let out a laugh that echoed through the tunnel. “I’LL REVEAL YOUR TRUE FORM!”

Jirou gasped as Joker jumped backward and the shadow exploded, black globs going in every direction as a small pumpkin was left revealed. Jirou stared, wondering what exactly was going on until the pumpkin turned to her. Its carved smile lit by an inner fire as the rag below it rose, a lantern grasped in its gloved hands. It cackled as it shakily rose into the air, and despite its slight cuteness, Jirou felt fear. Joker’s voice sliced through the air. “Grasshopper, this isn’t a joke. Fight it.”

She felt her anger rise. He hadn’t warned her of anything as they came in, and he expected her to fight? Oh, he better be ready for it, because she was ready. She let out a shout as she ran forward. She didn’t have a set plan, her body moving on its own as she spun her ax in her hand like an oversized baton, and dropped to her knees. Her hand gripped right beneath the ax head, sending it flying into the bottom of the creature’s cloak. Her angle was spot on, slashing the bottom of the creature and sending it into the air. She could hear Akira’s voice in her head, reminding her of opportunities as she rolled forward. She spun quickly, sending the ax flying behind her, only for pain to explode from her back. She hit the floor as she heard a curse, and felt the wind rush over her. She rolled over, wincing as pain filled her back, and saw Joker. 

There was nothing in the body of Akira Kurusu that seemed like her calm and cocky sensei. A scowl covered his face as his knife sang through the air. The pumpkin let out a soft noise as the first slash dug into its head, then a grunt when the foot hit it in the side. It went flying, and Joker landed softly, his hand reaching into his jacket. In one smooth motion, his pistol was drawn, and he walked forward. The world exploded into sound at the first shot, then a second, then a third. The pumpkin exploded into red and black shadows. Joker turned around, and for a moment Jirou saw death. His face twisted into a sadistic smile as blue fire licked at his chin, and a dark flame emitting smoke like screaming faces wafting up, and then it crashed down as he looked to her. “Shit, grasshopper. Didn’t think an inhuman enemy would throw you that much. Most of your techniques work on humans but...” He walked up to her as he put his weapons away, pulling a small syringe from his pocket.

With a swift drop, Joker crouched beside Jirou, looking her in the eyes. “I’m about to give you some healing, is that fine?” Jirou winced as she nodded, being rolled over as he looked over her back. “Oof, took that Agi pretty hard huh? I’m about to slightly lift your shirt, stay still.” Jirou winced as the shirt was pulled from sensitive skin, and gasped as a cold needle pierced her flesh. 

She growled as he withdrew it, rolling over to glare at him. “Hey asshole, tell me if you're gonna give me a shot! What if I was allergic to whatever painkiller you just put in me!?!”

Joker leaned back, looking surprisingly unsure for a man who just cut down a creature without breaking a sweat. “Sorry! Sorry!” He leaned forward slightly, smiling down at her. “I should have explained. What I just injected you with is a specialized healing syringe. It stains blood blue if just used normally, but if it’s used in the metaverse..” He gestured to Jirou’s back, which was pain-free. “It heals them. That was a low-grade one, but it should have been enough to patch you together fully.”

Jirou rolled over, standing up and flexing her back, spinning and stretching, only to find that there wasn’t a single sore point in her entire body. “Okay, that’s pretty sweet, not gonna lie.” She picked up her ax from where it had fallen, throwing it over her shoulder with a sigh. 

Izuku jumped up beside her. “Well, I was thinking we could train here longer, but now that you know how dangerous it is, you can back out if you want.” He gave her a smirk, winking at her. “But if you made it into U.A. then you have to be ready to go Plus Ultra, Right?”

Jirou spun quickly, smacking Joker with the flat of her ax. He stumbled forward with a proud smile on his face as she began walking back down the tracks. “C’mon sensei, I’ve got some faces to smack in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big Thanks to Mystik Owl for editing. If you see something we didn't cover we'll fix it in post!


	9. First Days Always Suck

The letter had indeed arrived the next day. All Might, the heralded symbol of peace saying he had made it in on a recommendation, and that school would begin soon. A list of required items was included, but that was unimportant. What was important was a long-winded letter from Nedzu. One which was littered with veiled references to vigilantism. It ended with an all too cheery joke about keeping up his hobbies and job during school, and just how much work it would be. Akira groaned as he sent Jirou a text. He would need the next couple of weeks to get everything together. This was going to be another long school year. He leaned back onto his chair, blindly reaching for a cup of coffee and taking a large sip of the life-giving liquid. “Well, I guess I can make a few back-up plans.”

Akira looked at the code in front of him again. He had picked Futaba’s vault as his next target, mostly because the code phrase sounded familiar, but he couldn’t match it perfectly. He read the hint again as the wind swept over his hair and whistled over the steel of his Skull mask. “That is not dead which does eternal lie, and in many dark eons even...” The rest was in code, which meant if he could remember the end of the code he would solve it easily. Unfortunately, he was drawing a blank on the phrase, despite knowing he’d heard it before. He felt the train beneath him slow to a stop as he sat up. He was tired from last night’s neighborhood patrol, having to deal with a group of midnight thieves that ended up being a time-sink. He was far too tired to go through the effort of running all the way to school. Besides, he was in uniform, so he couldn’t risk getting it soiled in a puddle while rolling after a jump, and it had rained yesterday. He rolled off the roof, landing on the platform keeping the commuters in the shade and jumped down into the street. He wasn’t going to rush, he had another twenty minutes before class started. He stuck his hand in his pockets, his messenger bag thumping against his thigh as he ignored everyone around him.

He focused instead on the gates of his new school as they passed over him, and everything they entailed. He was technically supposed to be starting his third year, and instead, he was starting his first. It was a strange feeling. Especially since he had little doubt it would be weird being ahead in half of his subjects, and infinitely behind in others. Luckily the entrance exam was missing a section on hero art—which was apparently a real subject considering it was on his syllabus. He found a herd of students loitering at the entrance, and carefully walked around them. He ignored the bobblehead looking boy who waved at him and instead walked straight into the building. 

The hallways were huge, with everything made to be easily accessible for all types of quirks. Akira made specific note of the large hose hooked to a fountain, as well as the randomly spread about handholds spread throughout both the walls and ceiling. He wondered why until a passing student answered it. A student made of something creamy and purple slid past, holding a vaguely human shape while leaping from handhold to handhold. Akira felt the urge to try it, despite the long night before. “Okay Akira you are a mature young adult and...” He jumped to the first handhold, using it as a base to jump to the next. Soon he was flying down the hall, laughing as he did. “I’m a mature young adult who can fly!” He tore through the hallways, heading to the second floor quickly, the stairs proving to be no challenge with the convenient jump points meant for students with odd-quirks. He made it to the massive doorway without a single pause in his mad run, smiling as the thinnest layer of sweat coated his face. He glanced down to his watch and smiled. “Five minutes from the station to my room. I’d call that a good time.” He walked in with a smile, and found the classroom wasn’t as empty as he thought. He grimaced at the blue-haired student who was currently sorting his school supplies but made no comment as he moved to the rear of the classroom, much like his previous seat. Taking a seat in the back corner of the class near a window he leaned back, opening a book on famous quotes about time, trying desperately to find the quote written in something fairly recent to his previous life. He flipped through his collection of quotes. Where various pages of quotes and references were sorted and printed on paper. And he found nothing. There were a few loud noises, which he ignored. He did pause on a name that seemed familiar. The quote was wrong, talking about time failing, but the name of the quotes source. Call of Cthulhu... He frowned at it, continuing to ignore the room as he wrote the name down. It sounded familiar. Like it was linked somehow. 

A voice distracted him as soon as he finished writing. “Everybody quiet down.” Akira put down his notes, sliding them into his bag and leaning forward, ready for whatever inane first-day activities awaited them as the day wore on. Once the class was settled Akira glanced around him. He raised an eyebrow at Jirou sitting to his right, a cocky grin on her face. He nodded at her, looking at the green hair in front of him, and stared. He was almost sure it was... The voice spoke up again. “Eight seconds. Five civilians could have died in that time, do better.” 

Akira raised an eyebrow at that. That mentality was something he and his team had learned. When seconds count, making a new plan could take minutes. But only someone who had been baptized in the fire would know... He stared at his teacher, barely managing to restrain the curse in his mouth. Eraserhead stood in front of his class, looking just as annoyed and distant as ever. Akira winced, knowing this was Nedzu’s fault, but was cut off from ranting in his head by Eraserhead staring at him. “Get your change of clothes and follow me to the gym, we’re skipping orientation.”

The class paused for a moment, with the exception of Eraserhead and Akira. One of which began to walk out, as the other gathered his stuff and rose calmly. He saw the class rush to get their things as he walked out the door, following the sedate pace of Eraserhead as classmates began to fall in beside him. They made their way through the school in a raucous fashion, Akira stalking after his teacher with his hands in his pockets. He glanced behind him, seeing Jirou looking at him from a few steps behind him with a raised eyebrow. He tilted his head in a beckoning manner, getting the Punk rocker to approach.

“So sensei, why’d you have to call classes for the last couple of weeks? I feel a lot less prepared than I should have, considering I have a private tutor.” The purple-haired girl had a smirk on her face, but Akira couldn’t miss the gleam of actual curiosity in her eyes.

He reached down, ruffling her hair causing an annoying glare to come his way before he was smacked in the chest. He laughed. “Nothing really, just a lot of work to get done before I could attend school. Telling my coworkers I’d be less available. You know, the boring stuff you have to do when you’re juggling jobs and high school.”

Jirou laughed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, because you’re so boring and all. Also, what was up with that skeevy old guy I saw at your apartment Tuesday? I was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out but turned around when he walked into your apartment.”

Akira stumbled a bit, but kept a mostly steady pace as his class started to approach the gym. “Oh, that’s my guardian. I may be emancipated, but I still have him listed because he’s the one who made it so I could get the apartment. The closest thing I have to family around here besides you.”

Jirou smiled, looking up at her taller friend with a grin. “Well, you looked so sad and weak when we first met I couldn’t bear to let you stay all alone.”

Akira laughed at their inside joke as they entered the gym, finding it already set up for some type of physical test. Akira raised an eyebrow, but followed his teacher as the reached the center of the gym. When all the students lined up in front of him, Eraserhead spoke. “I am Aizawa Shota, your homeroom teacher. Today we will be taking a physical exam to give you the baseline of your abilities for hero work. Go change and be back here in five minutes.” 

As the rest of the class ran off Akira and Jirou walked, talking all the while. “So sensei, where’s your tie?” She reached up, plucking his shirt collar with a free hand.

Suddenly he was back on the ship, Shido holding him by the throat. He could remember the finger clenched around his trachea, and feel his lungs burn with the need for air. He was stopped as a hand fell on his shoulder. “Hey kid, you alright?”

Akira shook his head, banishing the miasma around him with a smirk. “Sorry, just lost my head for a second.”

He looked over his shoulder, expecting to shoot a cocky grin at Jirou, only for the appraising eyes of Aizawa to meet his. There was a moment of silence before his teacher scoffed. “Okay kid, don’t bother putting on the tie, they’re illogical anyways. I’ll write you a pass for it. If you lose the pass I won’t replace it.”

Akira nodded. “Yessir. I’ll just go change now.” He spun out of Aizawa’s hand that wrapped around his shoulder, walking forward as calmly as he could while looking casual. Jirou rushed after him, but he ignored her while making his way to the locker room. Changing was quick. Sending Jirou a text saying he was fine, just bad memories, was even quicker. He made it with the rest of the group, slowly getting himself back together. By the time Aizawa began summing up the test, Akira was back to himself; the only proof of his distress being the increased heart-rate that Jirou could still hear as he shot her a cocky smirk.

Aizawa looked over the class and nodded. “Not as slow as you could be. Good. Today we’re going to do a heroic physical test. It will be like the ones schools require their students to take, but with the quirk restriction removed. It’s illogical to figure out where you are without your quirk, so we’ll ignore that rule to truly test you, but to add to the difficulty you will be competing against each other.” Aizawa reached behind him, pulling out a baseball and lazily throwing it in the air, before pointing to an ash-blond kid who Akira vaguely remembered yelling earlier. “Bakugo, how far was your farthest throw in middle school?”

Bakugo smirked, it was familiar to Akira. The smirk of those in power, those who saw the ones under them as lesser, and his blood boiled softly under his skin. He ignored it, instead leaning over to whisper in Jirou’s ear. “Why’s that dandelion so angry?”

There was a stifled laugh as Akira proceeded to tune out the rest of the explanation. He only needed to know the event he was competing in and the rules. And if it was the school’s physical assessment he could accurately guess the events. He didn’t bother listening back in until the first event was up. “Okay, everyone. First up is the grip strength test. All of you walk up and grip the bar here as hard as you can for thirty seconds.” Akira didn’t bother watching the others as they walked up, and when his turn came, he grabbed the machine. He didn’t instantly begin to grip though, instead lowering his hand until the machine was on the ground. He stood on it, forcing the handles closer together and waiting until thirty seconds was up. It read at 127 kg, which was above his personal average. He smiled as Aizawa calmly recorded his score as Akira walked off, the shouts of the class fading into the background.

The test continued like that. 90-degree arm hangs? Jump onto the pole and keep your arms at ninety degrees. Sure it required precise balance, but what kind of thief couldn’t perch on thin ledges all day? Endurance run? Nothing was good for training like outrunning dangerous shadows while carrying an unconscious friend. Then he came to the only event he couldn’t use his previous thieving experience on.. The ball throw. He watched as the others competed it. The bob-cut girl with the innocent smile managing to score literally infinity, causing Akira to scoff as Jirou bumped into him. When his turn rolled up, however, he still couldn't think of a cheat. He couldn’t summon his staff without revealing he could summon things from nothing, which meant he had his own lackluster throwing arm as his only hope. Then he paused, he had something else he could use. He took off his shirt, revealing scars and burns on his arm, but his t-shirt hiding the worst wounds, as well as the tattoo coating his back. He ignored the murmurs behind him, tying a small cup at one end of the shirt and dropping the ball in it.

He smiled as he spun the shirt around and around, building momentum at a steady pace until it was hard to control. With that he released the knot, sending the ball careening through the air. He smiled as it slowly faded from sight, turning to Aizawa. “How was that Sensei?”

Aizawa nodded once, looking at the device. “126.8 meters. That’s acceptable.”

There was a shout from one of the students. A blue-haired tall kid that Akira never bothered to learn the name of. “SENSEI! HE NEVER EVEN USED HIS QUIRK! AND HE CHEATED! HE DIDN’T DO ANY OF THE TESTS RIGHT!”

Akira raised an eyebrow at the loud student, deciding nearly instantly the kid earned a spot on his shit-list. Though, the robotic arm-chopping was kind of endearing. “Kid, this is a hero school. If you’re in a situation where any of these tests are necessary to survive or save someone else—if you just followed the way the test went, someone would die.” Akira shrugged, making his way to stand beside Jirou. “I just saw our teacher was giving us a heroic physical test, and as a hero, I wouldn’t dream of doing anything fair. As long as everyone gets home safe, my job is done.” Akira walked over to Jirou, holding out a fist, which she bumped with a smirk. “If all heroes were honorable and fair, the world would have blown up years ago; I’m just getting a head-start.”

The class was silent for a moment as Akira scratched his neck, holding his knotted shirt over one shoulder. He waited for someone to challenge his views, and smiled at the red-headed student who walked up. “But still, using tricks to pass a physical test doesn’t seem very manly.”

Akira smiled. “And how much does manly help when a knife gets shoved in your gut, or a bullet in the brain. We’re training to be heroes. That means we save people before anything else.” He rolled his eyes, putting his free hand in a pocket. “If you can’t figure out how that applies to this test then you’ll have some catching up to do later. Anyways, are we done sensei?”

Aizawa shook his head before gesturing to Midoriya. “He has to take the throw, after that we’ll wrap up.”

Akira nodded, momentarily distracted as the phone in his pocket silently vibrated. “Gotcha sensei, permission to use the restroom?”

Aizawa nodded, moving Midoriya to the center of the circle as Akira broke off from the group and walked to the locker room. As soon as he entered the locker room, he cursed softly, activating his third eye. He saw a few glowing lights that denoted cameras, which he promptly broke. With proper counterintelligence made, he cursed again. “I guess being in a rush led to a couple of mistakes.” He pulled out his burner phone and looked it over.

From [UNKNOWN]  
Attack happening in two weeks. Bar meet tonight. Come Alone.

Akira groaned, knowing he needed to pass this information to Aizawa as soon as possible. He wrote a text message calling for a meeting, then delayed the sending of it by thirty minutes. He let out a breath and rubbed the back of his head, putting the burner phone in his bag and grabbing his normal phone. Sliding it into his pocket, he turned to walk out, only for a boom to sound outside the door. Akira bolted out of the room, mentally forcing back the flames of cognition as he tore outside and stared. The ball throw had just finished, with Midoriya saying something to Aizawa. Akira ignored all that in favor of the most arresting thing in view. Midoriya’s finger was broken. Not in the simple sprain or crack Akira had seen before. The skin was one massive bruise, the skin charred and cracked. Blood oozed from the open wounds like a macabre filling. 

There were a million intelligent responses to seeing a classmate injured that Akira could have taken. He could have let Aizawa take control of the situation, he could have stood back in fear like his classmates. He could have said a pithy one-liner. Akira did none of those. He ran forward, causing the class to turn to him as he shouted. “IZUKU MIDORIYA, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO YOUR FINGER!!?!”

Izuku paled as he realized his cryptid neighbor was sprinting towards him, but paused as Akira reached a halt and grabbed his hand. “Multiple fractures, some burning, and of course the bleeding from multiple rips in skin due to excess strain. Jesus kid, your mom is gonna have my hide.” Akira frowned as he looked to his classmates. “Hey, Creation girl, get over here and make me two rigid sticks and some bandages. As well as some medical tape if you can, but I assume we have a nurse so we can let it dangle if we need to.” 

The creation girl stuttered in place, and Akira swiveled his gaze to focus on her. “NOW PONYTAIL!” She ran up, seeming to shimmer in place at her speed as she created the requested items. Akira glared at Izuku as he gave him first-aid. “Now you listen here Izuku, your mom filled me in on all this nonsense about being a late-bloomer, but come on.” Akira held the makeshift splint in place calmly and felt the world fade around him. 

Suddenly he wasn’t in an obnoxiously loud gymnasium. He was in a clinic, wincing as Dr. Takemi bandaged up a sprained wrist. She talked in a soft voice but still had a dangerous edge in it that made Akira acutely aware of the needle in easy reach. “I sell you my medicine, and this is what I got. You dropping in every week with a laundry list of injuries that you shouldn’t have with how under-the-radar you pretend to be.” She scoffed as she tied off the bandage, keeping Akira’s wrist tight and constrained. “Starting today, you are learning first aid. Swing by every Wednesday after whatever job you have, and I’ll make it so I won’t have to deal with you for this useless busywork.”

Akira smirked, looking at Tae with a nearly malicious smirk. “C’mon doc, that desperate to lose your favorite customer?” There was the sound of a solid impact as Akira flinched away from the clipboard that just impacted his forehead. He laughed as Takemi shook her head, gesturing him out.

The gym reestablished itself, and Izuku’s hand was wrapped around the broken finger all the way to the wrist. Akira nodded once. “Damn reckless that’s what you are.” Akira’s face was a mask of calm serenity. “Sensei, permission to take Midoriya to the nurse in order to mitigate the amount of yelling I’ll have to hear tonight?”

Aizawa nodded. “Sure, give me a second.” He displayed the scores, showing Izuku in second to last place, right in front of the invisible girl Akira had yet to notice. While the class all chattered inanely, Aizawa held up three fingers and pointed to Izuku. Akira nodded, pulling his green-haired neighbor aside.

As they began climbing the stairs Akira looked over his neighbor, a smirk on his lips. “So you managed to last a total of what? Three hours before hurting yourself?” Midoriya let out a pained smile, nodding his head as Akira helped him up the stairs. They walked in companionable silence for a moment, slowly reaching the third floor. Akira looked down at Midoriya. “Honestly though kid, that’s some determination you got on ya. If you keep that up then you’ll be a great hero. That’s a promise.”

Midoriya smiled, leaning into Akira’s side as they walked up. “Thanks, Mr. Kurusu, most people don’t believe I can.”

Akira reached down, ruffling Midoriya’s hair. “Cut that mister crap, just call me Akira. Besides, you’ll make a great hero; it takes some next-level grit to get there, and if you’re willing to break yourself for a test I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Akira opened the door to the nurse’s office, smiling at Midoriya. “Go on in there Midoriya, I’m heading back to class.” With a wave goodbye, Midoriya walked into the nurse’s office as Akira walked back to the gym.

He walked back into the gym with his class, wearing street clothes, and loitering around the entrance. He looked at them before spotting Jirou talking to Ponytail with a smile. He walked up, sticking his hands in his pockets. He nodded to Jirou as she looked at him. “Midoriya’s at the nurse’s office. What’s up?”

Jirou waved to him, not moving from the girl beside her. “Aizawa-sensei released us after throwing a syllabus at us. I was chatting with Yaoyorazu over here.”

Akira raised an eyebrow. “That’s a mouthful ain’t it.” He smiled at her, holding out his hand. “Akira Kurusu, local cryptid of the Mustafu precinct.” 

The girl gave him a sheepish smile, stretching out her own hand and grasping it lightly. “Yes, my name is a bit much. I’m Momo Yaoyorazu, but feel free to call me Yaomomo.”

Akira nodded. “Fair enough. Well, I’ve gotta go grab my stuff.” He started to walk off before adding “Oh, Jirou. I have a meeting at four today, so our training will have to be postponed. I have a few hours before I have to go though, so if you have any questions feel free to text or call.”

Jirou smiled. “Actually me and Yaomomo were talking, wanna go grab some ice cream to celebrate our first day at U.A.?”

Akira smiled at them, plucking out his phone to see it was still before noon. “Yeah, I got time. You two pick the spot; make sure I don’t have to take the train and I’ll tag along.” Akira stretched his arms out, placing them behind his head. “Lemme go shower and change. Meet me by the gate?”

The girls nodded and watched Akira disappear into the gym. Yaomomo turned to Jirou. “He certainly is a character, isn’t he? Seems a nice enough guy though.”

Jirou nodded. “Yeah, he lives on his own and is a pretty rough guy. But he cares about people you know? Plus he can really fight; he’s been training me ever since the entrance exam.”

Yaomomo nodded. “Yes, I believe I saw him at the entrance exam, though he didn’t stay for the meeting afterward. Maybe that was for the better though, there was a bit of trouble between Todoroki and another student.” There was a moment of silence as the conversation died. Yaomomo cleared her throat, trying to remove the awkward silence. “But, yes. Do you know of a nearby ice cream parlor? My first choice requires a train ride.”

Jirou perked up. “Yeah, there’s a place run near here my mom suggested. She said it's pretty good.” Jirou began walking to the gate. “I never thought of it before, but I’ve never seen Akira ride the train, and I know he absolutely hates the subway.”

Yaomomo began tapping the side of her face. “I wonder why that is? Do you think there’s a story there?”

Jirou smiled, giggling as she adjusted her bag. “With Akira, always. The real question, is will he ever tell us?”

***

Meanwhile, the principal’s office of U.A. was a warzone, the battle silent yet no less intense as Aizawa glared at Nedzu. The silence stretched on and on, neither side willing to speak first. Until the small tea kettle began to whistle. Nedzu turned to it. “Would you like some tea Aizawa? I’m sure it could help settle your nerves.”

Aizawa scoffed at the principal, crossing his arms. “Nedzu, I don’t have time for games. Why is there a student with obvious PTSD in my class? He had a flashback today, maybe two.” Aizawa wasn’t sure if that look of utter calm on Akira’s face while bandaging Midoriya’s finger was normal or not.

Nedzu looked confused for a moment, and Aizawa nearly lost it when the damn rat smiled. “Oh, Akira gets more interesting by the day. I knew his records were fake, but I do hope I can find out why.”

Aizawa glared even harder at his boss. “Nedzu, if he’s so bad off he has flashbacks at being asked simple questions, then he needs to see a therapist. I’m going to call his parents and try and talk them into it.”

Nedzu’s smile faltered. “I’m afraid you’ll have trouble there. He lives alone, with only a guardian who checks on him weekly. The whole thing was set up by Akira himself if I read the paperwork correctly.” And I always do, went unsaid. 

Aizawa sighed. “He’s clever, I’ll give him that. He followed the rules of my test today, but did each one in a way that meant he scored comparably to the students with more suited quirks. He also distracted them. I think he’s the reason one of my students scored bottom. She was distracted on several events where she participated beside him.”

Nedzu nodded. “Yes, I have reason to believe he used to do something horribly illegal. He has the skill set for it. He runs the city rooftops to get to school instead of taking the train, and he has a knack for finding hidden buttons and cameras.” Nedzu turned his attention to his monitor, pressing a button on the keyboard. Aizawa watched as his oldest student walked into the bathroom and cursed, looking around the room. His eyes paused in a few places, and he walked the room, smashing each hidden camera before looking at the last one and frowning. He smashed it too, and the feed went silent. Nedzu looked to Aizawa with a grin. “Interesting, isn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many Thanks to MystikOwl for being a great editor and pointing out my stupidity, as well as people like you random reader, who also point out my stupidity.


	10. An Easy Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As things continue there's a moment of calm in everyone's life. An evening of ease is important, even if one person has it a bit harder than others.

Akira Kurusu—or rather, Ren Amamiya—looked at the overcrowded bar with a raised eyebrow. He didn’t know any of the figures inside, but he did know how sketchy meetings went down. Working in Kaneshiro’s mind had given him ample background. So he leaned against the wall beside the hidden exit he had abused the first time he was here, nursing a cup filled with soda while keeping track of the people he had already marked as troublemakers. He smirked as he realized how strangely similar this was to his recent foray into socialization with new people. 

He had done similar in the ice cream parlor. Casing the area while trading small-talk with Yaomomo and Jirou. He was actually proud of how well he socialized in public while keeping track of everyone around him. Plus, he got a more in-depth lesson in crowd-reading sitting in the bar. A man who had to be about the same age as Ren walked up. “Hey man, wassup? I’m Technomancer, what are you getting out of this job?”

Ren raised an eyebrow at the villain walking up to him from under his red mask, taking a sip of soda as they approached. “Information. They give me some answers and I do some work. Simple barter.”

Technomancer gave a sheepish smile, looking around as if to find someone else to talk to. “Yeah, I’m just here for the money. I mean, four-million yen for a single day’s work against some kids? Good rate.”

Ren nodded absently. “Of course it is; with our target, that amount is honestly the bare minimum. But I’ll give Shigaraki this, he knows how to get a team together.”

Technomancer looked around. “Yeah, there are a few people I recognize here, but there’s a lot of new faces too.” Plague scratched the back of his head. “So what exactly is this meeting about?”

Ren shrugged. “No clue. I haven’t worked much with this crew, but they should be giving us the basics of our job.”

Technomancer nodded. “Oh, so what? We get the info and split?”

Ren was rapidly getting annoyed, but it was better to have a friend in his pocket than not. He turned to fully face Technomancer and paused. He assumed the person he was talking to was his age or older. What he didn’t expect was the freaking child in front of him. The kid was wearing a trenchcoat with LED lights routed through it. His entire area wreathed in red and blue as his fingers twitched mid-conversation. But that wasn’t what instantly caught Ren’s attention. It was the kid’s eyes. They were solid black, green lines traveling down them with no pattern or method. The kid smiled. “Sorry, that’s my quirk. I can wirelessly interface with electronics, but it has some... side-effects.”

Ren nodded, before glancing around. Shigaraki still hadn’t shown up, so he had time. “Kid, why are you here?”

The kid looked offended, his coat ruffling as he stepped forward. “For the cash, duh! Gotta make that money to get ahead in life.” 

Ren looked at him calmly, before shaking his head. “No way kid, get out of here. You have a quirk that can make you bank in the civilian sector, no need to throw away your life with us scumbags.” There was a pause as Shigaraki walked up, quieting the villains surrounding the bar. Ren leaned down. “Kid, once we’re done here get out of the game. I’d hate for you to end up with a knife in the back because you trusted the wrong people.” 

Technomancer gulped, prompting Ren to stand, listening to Shigaraki with as much attention as he could spare. “So, everyone here knows the basics of our plan. We are going to infiltrate U.A. and kill All-Might. I called you all here to fill you in on a few details. First.” Shigaraki turned to the crowd, the hand covering his face hiding his eyes. “This is your last chance to back out. If you want to leave, then do it now. After you hear this, then we’ll be at the point of no return.”

Ren glanced down to Technomancer and saw him standing with a stubborn glint in his eyes. Ren stood up, pulling Technomancer from the scruff of his neck. The kid shouted, causing a few villains to look their way, but none intervened as Ren tossed the teenager out of the bar and turned around. The villains around him looked curious, and he rolled his eyes. “Working with a kid younger than me is stupid. He’ll crack under pressure and get us killed. Or arrested.”

Shigaraki nodded. “Fair enough, didn’t like that snot-nosed NPC anyways. I called this meeting to tell all of you that we are meeting in two weeks to start the attack. As soon as I have an exact date I’ll tell you, but it will be in the morning and you will have to use our designated warper. “ He scratched at his neck, looking over the criminals and ne’er-do-wells beneath him. “We have an agent who’s going to be causing an incident in two days to sneak in, so I will give you more precise info then through your various channels. The purpose of this meeting is to tell you about our mission.”

He stood up tall, the hands coating him seeming to tense as he rose from his eternal slouch. “We are the dregs of society, cast out because we don’t follow what the government says we should do. Cast out because our quirks are “too dangerous to be let loose”, but I’m going to change that.” Shigaraki reached down, picking up a small stress ball of the Earth with four fingers. “I want to start a new era, where the world will be forced to accept us, and that all starts with one thing—one domino to kick-start the collapse of society.” His pinky touched the miniature Earth. He smiled as it disintegrated, looking over his crowd. “The death of All Might. When the Symbol of Peace falls, so will everyone else.” The dust blew from Shigaraki’s hand, and Ren smiled as he turned away. The villains began cheering as the teenager left the building, texting a helpful associate as he walked.

**

Dagobah beach had once been a trash heap of unrivaled horror. At least, it was according to Joker’s research; ever since he had arrived here it had been mostly clean and sanitary. However, the reputation of trash still kept people away, especially at night. So Joker sat on the dock, confident only one person would approach. A voice sounded behind him, proving him right. “I normally don’t meet informants after they do something blatantly illegal.”

Joker smiled, turning and standing in one smooth motion, his tailcoat billowing in the slight wind made by the motion. “What can I say Eraserhead? I have a terminal case of helpfulness to kids in danger.” Joker adjusted his bright red gloves, looking beyond Eraserhead to the city beginning to descend into sleep. 

Eraserhead scoffed. “You’re barely more than a kid yourself. You’re barely older than my students.”

Joker smirked, showing a predatory glint of teeth. “Depends on who you ask. There are some who say I’ve been around since before quirks existed. And they wouldn’t be wrong.”

Eraserhead groaned. “Look, I don’t have time for your games tonight. I have a class to teach tomorrow. What’s so important, and what does it cost?”

Joker’s smirk fell. “Fine, business. The cost is three-hundred thousand, to be paid whenever you can. The info is dropped now because it needs to get to you.” Joker let out a sigh. “The group I gave you the packet on, they just had a huge recruitment drive. I couldn’t get a clear count, but it was at least thirty villains. Their leader has a disintegration quirk that requires all five fingers to touch the object before it rots to nothing.”

Eraserhead raised an eyebrow but stayed silent as Joker raised a finger. “That’s the basic stuff though, there’s some bad news. They’re planning to attack U.A. and soon. They’re planning on killing All Might and using his death to try and crumble all of society. I have no clue on the how and why, but they seem motivated. They also have serious funding, hiring all the villains with a large amount of cash.”

Eraserhead stared at Joker for a minute, the only sound passing between them being the crashing of waves. “And how do you know all this? They wouldn’t let some shipment mover sit-in on a meeting this big.”

Joker’s smirk returned, letting him posture a bit by raising a hand to his chest. “Because I am a master thief, and they needed a set of light fingers. Granted, that means I’ll have to pretend to help in the attack, but it won’t be the first time my group worked undercover.” He paused at the memory. “Though I am hoping it will work better than last time.”

Eraserhead raised an eyebrow. “Group? So you’re working with others?”

Joker shook his head. “Sadly I’m all alone, the last job we pulled went so far south we ended up somewhere near Antarctica. Everyone else is gone now, just their humble leader remains, still fighting the good fight. With that said though, my time is up. Do you have the money now Eraserhead, or will we have to reschedule?”

Eraserhead stared at Joker again, before letting out a deep sigh. “You are a problem child.” He pulled a small lockbox from somewhere behind him. “Consider the change a forward on the next time you have intel.” Eraserhead turned to leave, walking off the pier slowly as Joker moved to the box, picking it up and looking it over with his third eye. Nothing seemed amiss so far, but as he opened it the entire bottom glowed in light blue energy. Joker smiled, pulling out what he felt ecstatic to see was at least a few hundred thousand yen, maybe even a million. He pulled the bottom off the lockbox, finding a small microphone hidden there. “Now aren’t you clever Eraser, well played.” He pulled it off easily, tossing the microphone into the trash can as he left the beach, whistling as he did.

**

Akira Kurusu rolled smoothly out of his jump as he landed on his roof, waving at the building super who had gotten used to his unique way of entering his apartment. He moved through the stairwell with a smile, switching to the skull mask in a small burst of fire. His freshest haul was sitting in his pocket, bulging slightly as he made it into his hall with a smile on his face. He walked past his neighbor’s door, only for a loud thump to force him to pause. He looked at the door for a moment before his world exploded into pain as the door slammed open into his face. He stumbled back. “Freaking! Why?” 

Akira rubbed his nose, looking up to see Inko in front of him with the world's biggest smile on her face. She quickly grabbed his arm, saying something that was lost in Akira’s cursing rampage as he was deposited in a chair. He blinked the pain off of his face, seeing a dinner placed in front of him while Izuku was busy looking mortified across from him. He looked around the room, trying to figure out what exactly was supposed to be going on. With no answer forthcoming, he cleared his throat. “Excuse me? Why am I here?”

**

Contrary to what most people thought, Aizawa’s perpetual exhaustion did not lower his abilities in the slightest. His mind was just as sharp on one hour of sleep as it was on eight. Which meant despite his now-assured all-nighter he was connecting dots as quickly as the detective beside him. “I think Akira has something to do with the Joker case.”

Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow as he watched the student through his various tests. “Why? I’ll admit, the way he’s moving on the acrobatic tests are similar to what long-time street runners use, but he doesn’t seem to have the disregard for heroes most vigilantes have.”

Aizawa shook his head. “There are a few hints. One, he has an obviously troubled past. Joker has admitted to working with criminals and has never dropped any hints that he’s hiding it from parents, which means he more than likely lives on his own, and with their similar sounding voice and build, I’m leaning towards them being related.”

Tsukauchi paused, looking over Akira’s student ID photo. The proud smirk gracing his face staring back at him from the computer screen. He brought up the photo that Aizawa had handed him for the Joker file. A black-haired teenager smirked at him, mask held in two fingers and off of his face. There were a few differences of course. The first could be easily dismissed as time. The eyes were different. In this picture, they were happy, full of life and joy. The ID photo had eyes that were challenging, not in an evil way like Tsukauchi had seen in villains and criminals, but in a distant, angry way. Like the world had taken the time to kick the boy into the dirt and he was daring it to try again. There was also the mask. From Akira’s file, the mask was fused to his face by his quirk. In theory surgery or enough brute force could remove it, but the kid had never asked for it. Tsukauchi sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not a bad theory, but how would he respond to being brought in for questioning? I heard he can’t have tight things around his neck. If part of his background is that... severe, then being brought into an interrogation room would probably cause some damage.”

Aizawa grunted, flipping through the files in the corner of the office he had claimed as his own. Tsukauchi still wanted to protest at the sleeping bag and notebooks strewn in his corner, but bit his tongue. Mostly because it meant Eraserhead would actually show up as opposed to calling. Eraserhead pulled out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before passing it to the detective. “Watch this, it’s not evidence for anything, but it does let us paint a more complete picture of the kid.”

Tsukauchi stared at the video of the U.A. locker room as Akira walked in, cursing slightly as he glanced around the room. He watched calmly as Akira hunted and broke every camera in the room, and shook his head. “His quirk would make that easy, but what would he have to hide?”

Aizawa hissed slightly, his thoughts escaping like air from a leaky balloon. “I don’t know, and that worries me.”

**

Akira looked at the food in front of him, then to the smiling woman in front of him. “Mrs. Midoriya, this really isn’t necessary. I have food at home you don’t have to feed me.”

Inko’s smile grew wider, but the glint in her eyes warned of torture if he resisted anymore. “Dear, I haven’t smelled curry from your apartment in a few days, but I do hear a microwave beeping every now and again. A young man cannot stay healthy on instant ramen.” She picked up a fork with a smile. “And I told you to call me Inko, dear.”

Akira nodded meekly, unable to cope with the unrivaled mom-energy being sent his way. He turned to Izuku, who was looking between his mother and his neighbor, trying desperately to hide under the table while not seeming rude. He nearly yelped when Akira made eye contact with him. “Th-thanks again for looking at my finger a-after I b-broke it. Recovery girl s-said it was a-acceptable, which I think from her is a compliment.”

Akira nodded. “I was taught the basics for relief. It’s a necessary skill if you lean towards fighting or exploring dangerous areas.” Akira picked up his own fork, starting on the katsudon in front of him. He smiled through his first bite. It was good. “Besides, I’m sure Inko would hunt me down with a garden knife if she knew I just watched you get hurt.”

Inko giggled, white teeth being shown off in full force. “I would never! But I would be very disappointed in you.” Her smile seemed to light up the room a little bit, and Inko asked Izuku about his classmates. The table descended into conversation as dinner wore on, Akira finding an open seat that was easy to fill. Smiles spilled easily as both he and Inko listened to Izuku, who after only mild prompting started telling them about different heroes. The kid didn’t need to know Akira was memorizing every hero’s name and abilities in case of the worst. That would have ruined the moment. So instead, Akira just took another bite of katsudon and thought about home. If this little family could feel like his old family, then maybe he wasn’t as lost as he thought.

**

Jirou looked down at her phone as her empty house sat silently around her. Her parents were still gone on tour, and though she’d see them in a few months, she still wished they’d been there for her first day of school. She cleared the screen, about to lock it and get ready for bed before she paused. A red eye of an app stared back at her, one she didn’t remember downloading. She could recall Joker saying that the way he went into that mementos place was on his phone. But was this the same? She tapped the app, seeing a simple directory open above her, but before she could read a voice seemed to whisper in her ear. It was dark and seductive, but gravel lay underneath it, making one think of an inevitable avalanche. “Hello my little bug, are you ready yet?” 

Jirou screamed, her phone flying across the room as a soft laugh drifted through the room. “Not yet? That’s fine bug. I can wait as long as you need.” 

Jirou began hyperventilating, forcing her heart to steady as she stood up. She shook her head, trying to delete the memory from her skull. “Nope, that was a stress hallucination. I am not bringing that up anywhere, and I am going to go to bed.” She grabbed her phone, plugging it in before collapsing into her mattress and falling asleep. If anyone asked if she heard an ominous humming throughout the night, she would have denied it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! Many thanks to Mystik Owl for editing


	11. Meeting The Gang

School Tuesday was already lining up to be easy. Akira came in with most of the class still on the way, leaving him, Mr. Roboto, and Yaomomo sitting around the room. He waved to the long-haired girl as he made his way to his desk, tossing his messenger bag on his chair and leaning back. He felt more awake today, probably from actually getting a home-cooked meal yesterday instead of something he could make in ten minutes with his microwave. He pulled out his code book again, working quietly on the quote again. With all the work yesterday, he hadn’t made the time to research the quote, but that wouldn’t stop him trying. His classmates began filing in. He noticed the seat beside him was filled in, but the lack of greeting meant he didn’t bother with one either. He tapped the pencil against his book, before he grunted at it. “That is not dead, which does eternal lie, and...”

A deep voice sounded in front of him. “In many dark eons, even death may die. I did not know you had perused the works of H.P. Lovecraft. Are you one who shuns the light of day like myself?”

Akira nearly bolted out of his seat, holding up his left hand to stall the conversation. “Wait, let me just...” He began filling it into the coded section, and with those words, it was cracked. It would take him maybe three minutes to translate it, then he would have his next objective. He smirked and heard some mild shuffling from beside him. He looked at his classmate and found himself staring. This boy... had a bird... For a head. Not like a full bird, but it was still mildly jarring when you see a human-sized raptor head staring at you. “Uh, Nevermore?”

The bird-headed boy chuckled. “It appears you focus on your work at the expense of your class. I am Tokoyami, a pleasure to meet you.”

Akira nodded towards Tokoyami, his smirk still showing his predatory teeth. “The pleasure is all mine; you’ve just saved me so much work and gave me a lead for my work tonight. Akira Kurusu.” 

Akira stuck out his hand, offering it to the boy, only for a solid black claw to grasp it instead. Akira stared as Tokoyami’s shadow rose, giving him a thumbs-up before disappearing under the student’s shirt, flattening off to hide. Akira looked confused for a moment, before raising his eyebrow. “Quirk?”

Tokoyami nodded, causing Akira to let out a low chuckle. The conversations in the class died down as Aizawa walked in, bringing the class to order and beginning the day with homeroom. Akira was a good student, taking notes the entire time through, though the fact that they had nothing to do with whatever Aizawa was saying was a detail he didn’t feel the need to comment on. 

Homeroom passed quickly, and Aizawa left to make room for their next teacher. Akira tapped his notebook, taking note of the coordinates on it before ripping out the page and wadding it up. He tossed it to the wastebasket over the heads of his classmates. There were some mutterings as they watched, but Akira was too engrossed by putting up his normal books and replacing them with his next classes. He stared at the book. A Primer on Art and Heroics. He glared at it. He was no Yusuke—art was hardly his motif—but if he found Yusuke’s mask, he was already thinking on how he should act, and a more in-depth knowledge of art would be necessary. 

So he actually began opening the book, flipping through the introduction as the time in-between classes passed. The class was in a rare moment of quiet as everyone recovered from whatever news Aizawa had dropped on them, but Akira felt no shame as he began marking down details that would be important later. Famous artists to research later and pieces considered revolutionary. He was stopped by Tokoyami tapping his shoulder. “Excuse me, are you really unaffected by Aizawa’s news?”

Akira looked up, pausing his note-taking to look over his classmate. Tokoyami looked nonplussed, but not scared by whatever information Aizawa had shared. Akira noted this, smiling slightly. “To be honest I wasn’t really listening. As soon as I found out it didn’t pertain to me I moved on. So much to get done, you know?”

Tokoyami nodded. “That does seem to be a wise choice. However, one of our classmates will be leaving early half the week, is that news not worth hypothesizing over?”

Akira smirked, a chuckle rising from his throat. “Not really. It’s me.” Tokoyami’s eyes widened as a sharp pain speared into Akira’s side. He grimaced, turning to his right to see one of Jirou’s ear jacks sliding back into place. “Jirou, you are rude.”

The punk girl rolled her eyes, ignoring the started conversations around her as nearby students talked about what they had just overheard. Jiro opened her books, looking through the music section. “Not my fault you ruined my fun. I was hoping to see everyone’s expression when you didn’t show up for English after lunch.”

Akira laughed, jolting the class into staring at him. Their attention was quickly diverted by the crack of a whip as their next teacher walked in. Akira had rapidly gotten used to the outlandish hero costumes, from the human bulldozer that he had walked past when he was sprinting through halls today, to the nuclear cowboy that seemed to walk around school with an actual gun holstered. He thought he was ready for anything. He was wrong. A legitimate BDSM dom walked through the door, whip in hand and a smile on her face, making Akira freeze in his seat. While the other students shouted out her name, he was stuck thinking one thing. What. The. Fuck.

He stared as she walked up to the podium, cracking her whip once more. “Listen up little whelps. I am Midnight, though you may call me professor or madame. I will be teaching you the first-year class on Hero Art. I expect you’re squirming in excitement to learn, but today we’ll focus on something far simpler.” Her whip rested against the podium as she smiled down on her students. “I want each of you to show me your best at the most intimate level. So for that, I want each and every one of you to start a self-portrait. It must be done by the end of the week, and afterward, we will start our first unit on inspection of the self.” She let out a smile that might have made a lesser man sweat, but Akira was on guard, so he barely flinched as she continued. “Your necessary tools are in the supply closet at the end of the room. To make it a bit more fun, I will allow you to use a phone stand and your cell phones instead of full mirrors.”

Akira nodded, making his way to the supply closet which he realized was directly behind him. He shuddered as the whole class began walking towards his desk, but managed to secure several art supplies as well as his small canvas and phone stand. He sat down at his desk again, setting the palette up and turning on his phone’s front-facing camera so he could see himself. He knew he didn’t want to do some basic picture of himself; he needed to show some part of himself, or else Yusuke would never let him live it down. The fact that his friend was dead notwithstanding. He picked up the sketching pencil and began working on several figures. Over the next hour, he sketched the basics of six figures, each one cloaked in shadows with only the barest trace of details appearing through the shadow. He stood in the center, bloodied and bruised, but held aloft with the shadows’ help. A soft sound forced him to pause, looking over his shoulder to see Midnight looking at the painting with an eyebrow raised. “An interesting start. Though you’re going a bit more Plus Ultra than your classmates.” 

Akira looked around, noting the headshots by all but a few of his classmates. Tokoyami beside him had gone for him standing in a lone spotlight, his shadow stretching wide to greet him, and Midoriya was doing a sketch of him standing beside a skeleton of a human, both laughing. Akira shrugged, putting a few final touches on his rough piece. “What can I say, I had a friend who beat some art into me.”

Midnight let out a short breath beside his ear. “Well, you should introduce me. Who knows what two strapping young men could make with me as inspiration?”

Akira’s mood turned to ice, the thought of Yusuke meeting any of these people bringing his loss to the forefront of his mind. He stiffened. “That would be hard considering his circumstances. Maybe you should go to judge someone else. I think I want to touch this up before the bell rings.”

There was a pause from behind him as if Midnight realized something, and she quickly walked behind Jirou, commenting on her piece as Akira glared at his. It would never measure up to what Yusuke could do even in the depths of his slump, let alone his later work. But maybe... if he tried hard enough... he could carry that torch too. He added to the background, railroad tracks leading nowhere, and a tower ascending above the frame of the painting. He put down his pencil, beginning to reach for the first brush as the bell rang. He paused, before making the decision to finish it at home. He began packing up his equipment, taking what he needed and sliding it into his bag before propping the canvas in his seat and standing up. Akira checked over the schedule. Since art was scheduled to run over on their first day they only had thirty minutes to lunch. Thirty minutes that the school used to introduce the heroics teacher apparently, considering it was listed next. Akira still hated it didn’t just list the teacher on his schedule, but he could live with a few surprises.

Akira shook his head, running a finger through his hair as footsteps approached. He looked up at the pink-skinned girl in front of him, and his world crashed to a halt. She was beautiful, with black eyes and little horns that gave her just the right level of impish or devilish feel to catch Akira’s interest. She was also enchanting, with her uniform only adding to her fae charm with the minor modifications she had made. The holes in her shoes being one of the first things he noticed. The way she smiled as she walked up to him only added to her adorability. She seemed to bound about in hopeless optimism and cheer that he couldn’t ever find himself holding in his life. Practical, beautiful, and happy. A perfect weapon to fell an edgy, rough, cynic. “Hey, you’re our second resident fluffball! I’m Mina Ashido, nice to meet you!”

Akira smiled easily, letting his natural charisma take hold as he realized this demonic vision of beauty was talking to him. “Well, if I’m a fluffball what are you? Besides our local beauty queen of course.”

Ashido stumbled slightly, the slight dusting of a blush coloring her cheeks. “A-ah, no... I’m just the resident socialite. I just wanted to comment that you and Deku have similar hair.”

Akira smiled, though it strained slightly. “Deku? The only person with similar hair I know of is Midoriya. And you seem far too sweet to be calling my poor little neighbor useless.”

Ashido’s blush seemed to intensify. “Sorry, no. I-It’s just, that’s what I heard Bakugo and Uraraka called him, so I thought...”

Akira smiled softly, tapping the top of his desk. “Well then, no harm no foul. Just make sure that Midoriya is fine with the nickname before you call him that.”

Ashido nodded. “Yeah, sure. It was nice talking to you Akira, but...” She paused as she turned to leave, staring at the start of Akira’s self-portrait. “Is that your piece for Midnight-sensei?”

Akira glanced down, looking at the rough sketch of his piece. “Yeah, I’m trying to do a bit more than the headshot everyone does by default. Make it a bit more memorable, y’know?”

Ashido nodded with a wide smile. “I wanted to do that too! But I couldn’t think of much besides trying to draw a splash of my acid over it or something, so I’m still kinda doing a headshot I guess.”

Akira nodded. “No shame in that, I was lucky enough to have a friend who taught me a bit. I’ll get it a bit closer to done after work tonight.” 

Ashido’s smile doubled. “You have a job? Is that why you leave early then?”

Akira raised an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “Wouldn’t you like to know? A man must keep some secrets, no one respects somebody who gives it all away after a single talk.”

Ashido grinned, leaning forward. “Well if that’s true, maybe I should keep talking to you then. After all, getting the full story is a fun reason to talk to somebody, right?”

Akira smiled back, looking over the room. “Sure, but you might want to stop now for the moment. Unless getting it all in public is your thing. We do have an audience after all.”

Ashido turned slightly, looking at the whole class who were busy staring at the exchange. Most were in shock, mouths hanging to the floor. The two-toned hair boy was looking on with a perplexed expression that was mirrored by Jirou. In Akira’s humble opinion, Midoriya and the pink-cheeked girl beside him had the best reaction though. Both of them were blushing so red they looked like tomatoes, staring at him and Ashido with heads hidden behind hands.

Ashido soon followed, a maroon blush rising as she quickly excused herself. Akira turned to flash a thumbs up at Jirou. She returned his positive reinforcement with a quick mouthing of What the Hell. Before anyone could actually respond, a loud voice sounded off. “I AM COMING THROUGH THE DOOR!!” The door crashed open, and a tall, extremely buff man posed as he came through. He continued to shout as he entered. “LIKE A HERO!!”

Akira stared at the veritable mountain of man in front of him. A million thoughts poured through his head as his classmates gushed, but he was stopped cold as soon as he turned on his third eye. He knew the danger colors scaled with his own power, so a person who was dangerous to him when he had Arsene active was a light blue. However, with the Pixie shadows in mind, they might seem to be yellow, or even red. The issue was, even with his longest-held and strongest persona, the red surrounding this teacher was so large and volatile it nearly covered the entire room. An aura of danger and death that threatened to strangle him. He slammed his eyes shut, turning off his Third Eye. As the class settled he took a few deep breaths, reminding himself that the Number one hero was not going to turn around and unleash Hell upon him. Hopefully.

Akira opened his eyes and watched as the hero known as All Might described how their next few days would go. “Now, my original plan was to introduce myself directly before the battle training, but that plan shifted to account for a scheduling conflict with another teacher. So tomorrow morning, when you arrive, Aizawa will give you any news you need before sending you over to me. We’ll be taking the first half of the day to engage in battle exercises. Take heed of this and rest tonight. So no over-the-top training. And even though I am a new teacher, I can already tell which of you would still train before a day of heavy workouts.”

AllMight’s gaze had briefly paused when they landed on Izuku, but what surprised Akira was when they then moved towards him. Akira leaned back, raising a single eyebrow and keeping his still raging panic under wraps as this force of nature judged him. AllMight then started talking about appropriate preparations, what foods were good fuel for hero work, and after a masterfully planned deflection from Jirou, popular bands.

“And that, young lady, is why I truly believe classic American Rock will forever hold my heart captive. Now, as I was saying-” The ringing of the end of class bell had cut him off, signaling lunch for the students. All of them stared in silence, with the single exception of Akira, who began packing up his bag and getting ready to leave. AllMight then stared for a second, before laughing. “HAHAHA! Now there is a man who wastes no time! Go forth my little zygotes, we’ll see each other tomorrow.” 

The class had then finally begun to pack up as Akira walked out of the classroom, making his way to the lunchroom. He didn’t stop to talk to any of the other people in the halls, just pushing through the line so he could get some free lunch before going home. He had barely looked at the food that was given to him before moving straight to a small table in the corner and taking a seat. He took out a pair of chopsticks and began chewing on the rice and meat in his bowl as he fiddled on his phone, plugging in the coordinates from earlier into his GPS.

As he left it to work out the location, Akira turned his focus to his food. He began the quick process of scarfing down the surprisingly good food while he flipped through his notebook, writing down areas where his knowledge failed. Recent history, the Quirk Wars, everything he believed he lacked the necessary knowledge on that was on the syllabus. But with the students coming in, it started to become hard for him to focus. But he stayed true to his plan, not even moving his head as more people began to sit down closer and closer. The first interruption was from Jirou, fortunately she knew well enough to not interrupt when he was in deep focus. She simply tapped him on the shoulder with an ear jack and sat across from him when he gave no objection. Unfortunately, the calm and quiet didn’t last long.

The second guest that attempted to break him from his trance had done so with a simple question. “Is this seat taken?” Akira shakes his head, barely raising his eyes to look at his new bird-headed friend before gesturing his head to a nearby seat. Tokoyami sat beside Jirou, both of them deciding to speak quietly, as not to disturb their friend’s deep concentration. Akira had thought about telling them that they didn’t have to go out of their way to be quiet on his account, before his phone had let out a quick beep as it acquired the location. He picked it up, and smiled wide. It was certainly a pleasant confirmation. Sure he had hints galore, but his favorite conspiracy was just confirmed. He looked up to Jirou with a smile. “Hey, if you want training tonight I can only see you before 5. I’ve got somewhere to be later.”

Jirou looked at him curiously but nodded. “Cool, I wanted to run to the record store tonight anyways. I have to pick up some new vinyl to play with later. Text me any updates?”

Akira nodded, finishing his food as quickly as possible while packing everything in his bag. He could check out with Aizawa, leave school, and run to Akihabara before 5. He just had to be back in time for dinner with Giran. It was a Tuesday after all.

He began making his way to the teacher’s lounge, only to be stopped on the way by his most recently introduced classmate. Mina jogged in front of him, screeching to a stop like an old cartoon character with her tray still held in her hands. “Hey Akira, where are you sitting?”

Akir paused, somewhat disturbed by someone actually asking him where he sat. That implied more than just sitting with him on a whim, which was a new experience for him. He normally only sat with people he had already established a relationship with. He hadn’t even started eating with Ryuji until about halfway through the first palace. He looked around, finding them alone in the middle of the cafeteria, where everyone could see if he just tried to leave. Perfect. He smiled softly, trying to soften the blow of his refusal. He was heading out, just mention that and he’d be safe.

“Well, I normally sit with Jirou, but you could always join us.”

He instantly hated himself. While his face betrayed nothing, he had meant to leave no room for argument that he was leaving. He spoke again, remembering to cut off any future shenanigans in the bud. “I’m actually leaving right now, but you can join us tomorrow.”

He hated himself. He had hoped he could make it so Mina would return to her friends, that way he and Jirou would only have to speak around one person. Though, the smile on Mina’s face was almost worth it. “Well, maybe I’ll go talk to Jirou for a bit then, maybe tease out a little more of your secrets from her while I’m at it.”

Akira chuckled, baring his teeth to his pink foe. “Of course, see how much you can tease out of her, though I’m sure you’ll be disappointed if it comes that easy.” He gave Mina a half-bow, maintaining eye contact the whole while. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” He walked around her, glancing at his phone screen again. He knew he would miss some sleep tonight. After all, breaking into a building owned by Oracle inc. to steal back it’s founder’s mask would probably be a bit harder than robbing an old coffee shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many Thanks to The Beatles211 and MysikOwl for editing!


	12. Hop Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why does life have to be such a disappointment. Joker walked in expecting the heist of the century. All he got was an angry bunny.

Even after all the advancements humanity went through while he was gone, both as a society and as a species, it was nice to know that some things had remained the same. Akihabara was still the Otaku capital of the World. As Akira walked through streets crowded with people looking for the latest tech, hero merch, and maid cafes you could find anywhere, he took in a deep breath. The people, the movement, all of it coalesced into the most informal part of Japan that anyon under the age of eighteen could legally see. Though, he wasn’t here for any of that. He shifted through the crowd as he left the main street, heading to the alleyways that were filled with several strange and niche shops. He paused outside one, looking at the frog-like goggles on display. He looked to the sign and found himself wearing a sad smile. “The Oracle’s Tomb… fitting.”

He tapped his thumb to the biometric lock, and couldn’t help but smirk as he walked in. Though, it was a touch disappointing. Some part of him had been hoping for a full infiltration. And instead, he just opened a door. There was a laptop sitting on a counter, closed and plugged in with a single flashing light above it. The room itself was simple, a briefcase leaned against the wall with a layer of dust over it. Akira flipped open the laptop, not worrying about a time limit this time. When the screen turned on he glanced at the username. It was a picture of an eyeless cat with a grin filled with jagged teeth. The same icon Futaba used when she first contacted him under the alias of “Alibaba”. Beside the crazy cat face was a speech bubble with a question. “Who is our leader?”

He rolled his eyes as he typed out two letters. Me. The computer unlocked with a happy beep, showing a similar set up to the last one. One folder was visible, which Akira clicked open. There were several folders under it, with two instantly catching his eye. The first read “If You’re Under The Radar”. And the second was labeled “The Phantom Thieves Are Back”. He didn’t spend much time thinking about it. He had made news once, why not do it again. He clicked on the second option, revealing files for a computer program and a video recording. 

The video didn’t take long to load up, Futaba staring at him with a knowing smirk from across the screen. “So, my glorious leader, starting to get things back on track yet?”. She then released a deep sigh as she leaned back into her office chair and shifted her gaze to the ceiling in defeat for a second. “God, what I wouldn’t give to hear an answer to that for once…” She sighed again and moved the chair back to an upright position. She then shook her head for a bit and looked back towards him with her trademark cocky grin that always promised imminent mischief and chaos. “Anyways, with the sappyd stuff out of the way, I have made something so beautiful and stupendous that none shall be able to stand against it! You may choose to bow and worship my awe-inspiring technical might and know-how either now or later, but know that I’ll will be watching you. That pretty little file beside this video? The one titled “New Game+”? If you plug this laptop up to the open wire outlet hidden behind the table, it will automatically link up to the Akihabara video system. Now, if my company still has the contract, then the program should still be able to slip right through the network servers and hijack every available screen in the district. I had Inari help me design this little ‘presentation’, so you should expect a combo move worthy of S-Rank. Also with the help of some editing magic made by yours truly, you’ll be the only thief in it. No recording required”

Akira smiled, looking at his little sister with a nostalgic smile. Even from beyond the expanse of time between them, she was still reaching out to him and giving him little gifts to help him on his new journey. He didn’t move, letting her pause and once again flash him a positively evil grin. “Also, when you upload it, I have some friendly advice. Run. The video starts thirty seconds after you execute it, but the bug starts instantly. So you can disconnect the computer when you’re done. It will tell everyone exactly where you are. Gotta make sure our little Joker isn’t getting slow now, ~right?”

The video winked out, and with a flash of blue fire Joker was left alone with the laptop. He began to chuckle lightly for a bit before a full-on hysterical laughing fit escaped from his mouth. He then stepped back with his frazzled hair and manic eyes making him seem a bit unhinged before he was able to recover. “Oh my little Oracle, you sure know how to let me enjoy playing up my thieving side. I can’t wait to show you one hell of a performance.” He brought out his burner phone, pulling up a street app as he searched for the largest TV in Akihabara. He marked the location before grabbing the briefcase from the corner. Without an ounce of hesitation, he plugged the laptop into the ethernet chord behind the table and started the program.

As soon as a message popped up to tell him it was done, he unplugged the laptop, sliding the it into his jacket. A wall behind him began to turn, and he was off like a shot. His outfit wreathed in blue flames as he changed from Akira to Joker, his white and black palmed into his hands with his coat unfurling behind him. The buildings surrounding him turned into his own little a playground of jumps and dives. He jumped up every little overhang or loose masonry, sometimes his arms only touching the bricks and pipes for a moment before he jumped higher. His rapid climb to the rooftop ended with him out of breath ten seconds later, looking at a huge TV, one hosting his logo. He had twenty seconds, plenty of time to rooftop run from here to the large screen above an electronics store. The screen was two stories tall, with a cement overhang. Joker smirked as he jumped onto a powerline and ran across the street. This was going to be perfect.

***

To say that Tsukauchi Naomasa was confused would be an understatement. Mellissa’s birthday was coming up, and as such he had gone to Akihabara to pick up a gift for her. While he couldn’t afford to go to I-Island for the party, he wasn’t going to let her go without a gift. However, he was distracted by the television above the store. The news had abruptly blacked out, replaced with a flaming, red mask and a black top hat. It was followed by a small, red card with text designed like magazine clippings that were asking for patience. A quick glance around the neighborhood showed that every screen in the area was displaying the same picture. He stared at the suspicious emblem with slight trepidation, until the image disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared. The empty screens then flashed back to life only to reveal Joker, the recently-debuted underground vigilante, and criminal. He was leaning back in a chair, grinning deviously. “Greetings, people of Japan. I am going to believe that it is safe to assume that you all have gone and forgotten about me after my little run-in with death. And for those of you who are stuck doing nothing but helplessly grasping at straws, let me help speed things along and remind you who I am. I am none other than the infamous Gentleman-Thief, Joker. The fearless leader of the group that was once known throughout the world as ‘The Phantom Thieves of Hearts’.”

Naomasa’s whole body immediately froze at what he was watching on the screen. He then quickly reached for his phone to begin recording the transmission as fast as he could. He saw various people discussing and theorizing about what they were witnessing. But historically-speaking, the Phantom Thieves were nothing but a forgotten footnote in the history of Heroes. A pre-quirk group that fought against corruption. They were underground heroes before the profession of heroes existed. But if Joker was related to their original leader, then this whole case just became a whole lot more complicated. The screen then continued on as the one who claimed to be Joker began to lean forward. The loud clack of the chair legs making contact with the floor silencing the large crowd’s murmuring.

“Now, I’m fairly sure the police already have a file on me. Probably one that contains a few theories and rough guesses about me. How I probably work alone, how I’m young, maybe even something saying I’m an orphan. While I won’t say which of those assumptions are right and which ones are wrong, I will at least applaud the effort on the deep digging.” Joker smirked into the camera, his hand slowly clapping at the screen. “But that’s not really important now, is it?. What IS important is what I want. For the moment, I’ll be honest. I don’t really know. This place is so very different than how I remember. I know a few things, like how my friends left me all sorts of gifts hidden around when I died, and I’ll make sure to get them all back.”

He stood up suddenly, the camera panning up quickly. “But I am no simple thief, I won’t just be going about and stealing things with no hope of the police catching me. I am a gentleman, and as such, I am honor-bound to ensure that the game I set is a fair one. So consider this as my attempt at an official Calling Card. Thirty seconds ago I was in ‘The Oracle’s Tomb’. I couldn’t have gotten too far, so let us see how your attempts to try and catch me turn out.” He then turned away from the camera, about to take his leave from the view of the screen, before he paused and turned back to the camera. “Oh, and one more hint. The symbol of Oracle industries. If you find it on something that seems out of place, then there’s a good chance that that is what’s next on my list of targets. Catch me if you want some answers, but until then...” He walked off, his voice silent until he was fully off-screen. “~Good luck.”

Naomasa continued to stare at the screen as he saved the video, only for a flash of movement to catch his attention. Black and red flying down from above the screen, landing in a crouch. Then he heard it for the first time. The voice of Joker. “Well well well, it looks like my little sister does good work. I was just dropping in to pass one more message to you.” Naomasa began pushing through the crowd, drawing his pistol as he tried to close the gap between himself and the vigilante. Joker looked at him instantly, and the damn smirk deepened. “I’ve never been caught before, and I don’t plan to now. But just beating the police would be boring. So I’m issuing an open challenge. Any hero who catches me will receive a gift. I will personally show them to the greatest treasure trove in the world. Every single person’s hidden desire, every villain’s motivation. I’ll show it to them, all for the simple price of catching me. So, at the risk of sounding repetitive. ~Good Luck. ~You’ll need it.”

Naomasa made it to the front of the crowd, raising his pistol. “Joker! You are under arrest for the charges on multiple accounts of vigilantism, trespassing, and theft! Stop right now, and put your hands in the air!”

Joker stared at the gun pointed at him for a minute, and then gave the detective a devious grin. “Really? That sure is quite a list considering the amount of time I’ve been back in the game. But I would never allow my epic comeback tour to end with such a short list of achievements. The Phantom Thieves have a reputation to keep after all.” He winked at Naomasa, causing the detective to curse as Joker dived into the crowd and began running into an alley. As Naomasa began to push through the crowd to follow, there was a shout. “HEY, get back here villain!” Naomasa looked up and saw the form of Miruko the Rabbit Hero jumping over the crowd. Naomasa sighed, holstering his pistol and pulling out his phone to message Eraserhead. This was definitely going to cut into his sleep schedule. Hopefully, he won’t be too cranky to help him.

***

Joker had many regrets in his life. Hell, just his last few moments with his friends had been enough regret to last him a hundred lifetimes. Not motivating Ann enough to ask Shiho out, not telling Ryuji where he hid his phone so he’d stop texting him in the middle of class. A million others. But currently, this one was at the top of his list. Not checking the hero patrols before starting his publicity stunt. He was, of course, a cocky thief. It was an occupational requirement for him to take most of the dangerous gambits that he did. A reckless disregard for his personal safety was just part of the job description for being a thief. But that didn’t mean he was a thief who didn’t know the extent of his abilities. And taking on one of the top ten heroes in the entire country was not something he was ready for. Not yet at least. He turned around another corner, his mind was racing to find the subways without having to waste the precious seconds he’d need to look it up, even as a berserk woman’s scream came out from behind him. “GET BACK HERE! NO ONE, AND I MEAN NO ONE, OUTRUNS ME!”

Joker grimaced as he jumped over a low trashcan, knowing she was right. Miruko may have done poorly when it came to investigations. But in terms of chases, she had close to a 100% arrest rate. Joker clicked his tongue in annoyance. He had almost a block and a half to go through to get to his destination. In the center of a bunch of buildings, there was a forgotten subway station he could use to disappear. But that was a long way to go, especially with police closing in and someone on his tail.

He saw a small red figure sneak into his Third-Eye’s vision, making him roll forward. As he did so, a strong rush of wind nearly hurled him down to the ground. He risked a glance behind him, only to see Miruko finish her spinning kick with an almost predatory smile on her face. “Oh, so the little thief’s got a move or two, how many of those do you think you can dodge?”

Joker knew it was stupid to respond. He should throw something behind him, he definitely had a few toys and trinkets in his jacket he could use, but with the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins, he was thinking more on emotion than logic at this point. With the nostalgic feeling he had of Oracle being beside him, and the words from her message still fresh in his mind, he knew that his tools weren’t the way to go. This was a heist as well as a declaration to Society, and using cheap tricks to win would only diminish the satisfaction of victory, if only by just a little. Instead, he clambered over a fence, waving behind him as he fell over it. “More than you can throw before I lose you, you wascally wittle wabbit. Maybe I’ll give you another chance next time.”

There was the sound of a loud crack as Miruko launched herself again, rebounding off walls to try and make up for the time she lost with her kick. The alleys gave way to an abandoned children’s park, with an old subway entrance behind it. Miruko felt her gut pulling towards it, and trusted it as she landed in front of the entrance. Joker skidded to a stop, his smirk never faltering. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, the distant sound of police sirens slowly growing louder and louder as they followed the signal on Miruko’s suit. Finally, Joker raised an eyebrow. “So how are we doing this? Are you gonna take a swing at me, let me pass, or should I start an evil monologue? You’ve got the stage wittle wabbit.”

Miruko crossed her arms, letting out a huff of breath as she tried to close the gap with a slow walk. “You’re a thief and a vigilante. If I had to guess, you’re not even a bad guy, since you weren’t in any of the emails I got from the police. As much as I may want to see how you fight, I would prefer to just arrest you. With how small your rap sheet is I bet you’d be out of prison in a few years.”

Joker chuckled, taking a few steps back to keep himself a safe distance from the hero. “Last time someone told me that, a detective shot me in the head while I was handcuffed to the interrogation table. So you’ll have to forgive me for having to politely decline your ‘generous’ offer.” He reached into his coat, pulling his knife free from its hidden pocket. 

The staredown continued for a moment before an achingly familiar voice whispered in Akira’s ear. “Do you really think you can honor their memory like this?”

Joker looked around, his guard falling for a second, and in that second Miruko leaped forward. Only the split-second warning from Third Eye had saved Joker’s skin, allowing him to jump over the low kick sent towards his shins. And after backflipping to regain a safe gap between them, he returned his gaze to Miruko’s eyes. “Did you say something?”

The hero raised an eyebrow, regaining a proper fighting stance. The voice came again, slightly louder. “Where is the sinner I trained? He who would burn the corrupt by the dozen to save an innocent. Where is my blood-stained saint? All I see is a boy, cavorting about in ancient history. Regain yourself, my young Trickster.”

Joker’s eyes snapped open in realization, and his stance fell. Miruko took it as a surrender, her own guard lowering as Joker put his knife back into his coat. He looked to her, and she took note of his eyes. They were sad and resigned, as if he was struggling to find purpose in anything. But in a moment the expression died, and Joker’s eyes were once again lit up in defiance as his smirk returned. “You know Miruko, I admit without a hint of shame that I can’t beat you.” He walked to the side slowly, even as Miruko matched his pace, keeping the subway station out of reach. He paused after a few steps. “But, I also can’t just turn myself in when I still haven’t accomplished my goals. So how about as a consolation prize, I let you see something that only my little thieves guild has witnessed? So allow me to introduce you to the one who taught me what it means to be a true rebel, my honorable sensei.”

His hands reached up to his mask and began to pull. Miruko just stared for a moment, thinking he would reveal his identity. Probably hoping to shock or distract her long enough to escape. The joke was on him, she didn’t play that political shit like some of the other top heroes. She didn’t care if he was the son of the hero commissioner, she would still bring him in. That was until the wind picked up around her. She found herself straining to hold her ground, watching transfixed as Joker became wreathed in blue fire, and blood began to leak and spurt from his face. He was killing himself. Through a titanic force of will, she managed to take a single step forward. Only to freeze as Joker looked at her, his eyes glowing an eerie shade of yellow that set off her survival instincts. “What’s the matter, hero? Never seen a kid rip his own face off?”

Joker could barely repress his laughter as Miruko finally took notice of his age, but it was quickly blocked out by the pain of fire burning away every scrap of fear and hesitation he once had. Neuron after neuron fired off with an intensity comparable to a miniature sun as the contract of blood was carved within his very skull. Finally, he was fully enveloped by the azure flames, and the world went black. “You, who struck down a god for the sake of thyne freedom. You, who robbed the very souls of the wicked for the freedom of thyne allies. Why now do you hamper yourself? You, who gave your own life for the life of thyne comrades, and accepting their place without thought or hesitation. Yet now you yourself are the one who stands in the way on your journey to reclaim your legacy. Was this choice yet another mistake in a long line, or do you simply yearn to be free of the responsibility of the choices your friends died for?”

Joker flexed his arms, feeling blue fire rebuild his mind as soon as he thought of his answer, but still, he shouted to the heavens. “NO! I WILL CONTINUE UNTIL THE WORLD WILL CALL OUT THEIR NAMES! NO ONE WILL FORGET THE WORKS OF THE PHANTOM THIEVES!”

With that, his sacred vow was now forged as Joker’s mind burst forth upon reality. And with his vision returning as the azure flames enveloped him, a demonic smile formed within the blue inferno. He didn’t bother to move as they coalesced behind him, already sure of what lay behind him. Red boots reaching to his hips, a metallic-grey vest with golden buttons, black-feathered wings that thinly spread out like a cape, and a top hat that reached the sky. Akira’s smirk grew as his limbs lightened, his body feeling faster and stronger after only a single moment. The demonic-being behind him then spoke, it’s voice being both melodic and smooth while also being prideful and devious. “VERY WELL, YOUNG TRICKSTER! I am Arsene, the Pillager of Twilight! Now cry out thyne dreams for all to hear! And we shall carve the names of our comrades directly into the very heart of the world that dared dismiss the ones who fought and bled for their sake!”

Miruko could only continue to stare as the demonic figure levitated behind the teenager in front of her. She thought when the mask came off she would at least see his face, but all she could make out was the blood scattered over his face and deep shadows that came from nowhere. His smirk was wider than ever, and as the demon spoke Miruko made her only mistake. She took a half-step back. It wasn’t much, just a shuffle backward as the demon stared at her with a Jack-o-lantern’s grin. Joker pointed to her, and her instinct pushed her to quickly put up her guard. But it wasn’t going to be enough for what was about to come next. Joker dropped his smirk, looking focused as his face hardened into an intimidating glare. “Arsene... ravage her!” His voice cold as the grave as he snapped his fingers. Arsene then gave his thin wings a mighty flap that sent him rocketing towards the Rabbit Hero with his black talons raised.

Miruko immediately made an attempt to dodge the oncoming strike, but the demon was far faster than she had expected. The chains around his ankle rattled as the distance between them disappeared. The demonic figure then made an abrupt stop in front of her as his claws lunged upwards before they made contact with her. The fact that the claws didn’t so much as graze her had caused Miruko to feel her confidence rise for a moment, before the sensation of a hundred pinpricks lit up her skin. She looked down and saw a ton of translucent needles poking into her skin through her costume. They quickly appeared to fade out of existence as her vision darkened. By the time she realized the needles were drugged, she was already on her way to meet face first with the ground.

Joker dashed forward arms outstretched, catching the hero and gently placing her on the ground. As soon as she was safely on the ground, he ran into the subway. He could hear heavy footfalls and tried to time it so they would see the tail of his coat before tapping his phone screen and descending into the metaverse.

The fires bathed him faster, and he landed easily in between steps. He slowed down, leaning on a wall as he looked up. Arsene was there, chains hanging from his leg and a cocky grin on his damned demonic face. Akira gestured towards him, feeling the small recoil cut from dream needle dripping blood inside his sleeve. “WHAT THE HELL SENSEI! HOW WAS I ABLE TO CALL ON YOU BACK THERE!? WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!? AND WHY THE HELL DID IT HAVE TO HURT EVEN MORE THAN THE FIRST TIME!?”

Arsene lightly chuckled and then began leaning forward. “Well, my little Trickster, it appears that killing a god and forcibly separating the Cognitive World when it was in the middle of melding with the waking world hads a few consequences. How could we have ever guessed that?” He said in a somewhat sarcastic tone.

Akira stared at Arsene for a moment, processing what he just said. It only took a moment before it all snapped in place. “FUCK! The metaverse has been slowly melting into reality hasn’t it?” Arsene didn’t respond, letting his student continue his line of thought. Akira began pacing. “It would make sense. That’s why the quirks started so simple. Basic ideas like a baby glowing with youth becoming literal. And as more and more of the metaverse melded into reality ideas were able to mutate and change. Which means that...”

There was silence as Arsene stretched his grin to an inhuman level. “Which means?”

Akira nearly jumped. “Shit, it means that palaces may not exist. The metaverse melding with reality might have made the act of creating a palace impossible, or at least incredibly localized. So I can’t steal hearts, even if I wanted to try and do it alone.” He began pacing. “Which means if I really want to grab all of my friend’s stuff and make the world remember them, I’ll have to try a new strategy.”

Arsene lazily floated away, his flames dissipating as he disappeared. “Very good my little Trickster, I have confidence that you’ll eventually figure out a new way to take what we need. But until then, remember that you can Ccall on me if the need arises.” Akira was left alone in the Hellish subway station, gritting his teeth in annoyance. He let out a rough breath as he went through the blue cell doors out of mementos and back to the Velvet Room. It was strangely calming, lying down on the bed where he had been imprisoned for so long.

***

Aizawa began to run out the door as soon as the bell rang. Joker had done something in Akihabara. He couldn’t exactly tell what the whole circus act in the Otaku Central was supposed to be, but he needed to see the remains of The Oracle’s Tomb in person. Unfortunately for him, he was stopped by principal Nedzu’s voice. “Will Aizawa Shouta please report to the principal’s office?”

Aizawa froze, and then turned around, muttering under his breath as he walked the halls. This was the downside of working two jobs, juggling them both was nearly impossible. He walked into the office with a frown. “Nedzu, what’s so important? I have work to do.”

The chair in front of him turned around with the suit-wearing, rat-dog-bear-thing in question holding up a phone that seemed to be half of his size. “Ah, hello there Aizawa. What would you say if I think one of your students might be a vigilante?”

Aizawa stumbled, nearly falling over as he reached for a chair. He stumbled into it, before taking a moment to stare at Nedzu. “What did you find?”

Nedzu hummed happily. “Would you like a cup of tea? I hear that they help with difficult conversations.” With practiced ease, Nedzu moved a full cup to Aizawa, who simply glared at it before returning his gaze to Nedzu. The animal principal simply shrugged at the question, moving on with the conversation. “Very well then. It starts with when I met Akira Kurusu. Are you aware that he has more than one mask?”

Aizawa paused, then grumbled as he took a sip from the cup of tea in front of him. If aggressively slurping was a sport, he would have won gold in that single attempt. “Impossible. I looked it over during their physical. It’s grafted to his skin by his quirk.”

Nedzu smiled wide and slid the phone across the desk. “As I’m sure you’re aware, my suit has a myriad of hidden cameras. I met Mr. Kurusu after what he claimed to be an all-night shift, and his claims sparked my interest. On a whim, I offered to let him take the recommendation exam. Especially after I remembered where I had previously seen his mask was from.”

Aizawa picked up the phone and paused. “That is... interesting.” On the screen of the phone, was Akira Kurusu, and he was wearing the mask of his little vigilante. Joker was sitting in a car with Principal Nedzu. Aizawa blinked. “So, should I start the paperwork to expel him? I can do it at the same time as the paperwork to get a warrant.”

Nedzu shook his head. “No, if he had never done this little stunt with Miruko, I wouldn’t have even bothered to mention it. Far better to slowly turn the vigilante into a proper hero, and if you caught him I could pull strings to force him into a reform program centered on UA’s curriculum.”But then, I saw this.”

The computer screen in front of him turned around, and Aizawa was looking at an abandoned clearing in Akihabara. A decrepit playground and ancient subway laying forgotten by time. Joker was standing against Miruko, and Aizawa was already wondering how he escaped. Nedzu smiled as the mouse moved to the play button. “I sadly don’t have audio, this camera was one of mine used when taking down a smuggling ring. But I believe that Mr.Kurusu’s actions explain my thinking.”

Aizawa watched as the two obviously exchanged words. He raised an eyebrow as Akira dodged a low-kick from the rabbit hero, hiding exactly how impressed he was with the action. But then he watched as Akira began to pull at his mask, blood staining his sleeves and occasionally spurting out from behind his hair. He shouted something, and the fire flew off him, before coalescing into a solid thing. He could barely make out details since the camera was old, but Akira summoned something behind him and calmly pointed at one of the top-ranking heroes in Japan. Granted, if Miruko had known what to expect, she could have easily dodged the next attack. But as the red and black figure charged forward and clawed the empty air before her, a thousand small needles flew through. Most of which spearing her maybe a centimeter deep, turning her into the world’s first bunny girl pin cushion. Aizawa had to admit, without previously seeing the attack, even he would be hard-pressed to blame her being unable to counter or dodge such an attack up close.

She started to fall, and Aizawa raised his other eyebrow in shock. Akira ran forward, catching her before slowly laying her down. The video stopped, and Nedzu’s smile widened. “That doesn’t seem particularly villainous, does it?”

Aizawa groaned as his head hit the desk. Why did he have to have so many problem children in his class this year? And why did Nedzu have to like the most problematic one of them all? He can already tell that those two will make quite the terrifying team in making his life a living nightmare. Even more than they already are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many Thanks to Beatles211 and Mystikowl for editing.


	13. Meet The Berserker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many Thanks to The MystikOwl and Beatles211 for the edits, it'll probably have some more later but I cannot be contained.

Eraserhead stared at the wall in front of him with a grimace. He really didn’t like the implications that came with the message’s continuous flash in bright, red neon. He brought one hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke to the man beside him. “Naomasa, what am I looking at?”

Tsukauchi Naomasa was beside him, looking at the sign with annoyance. “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say a neon sign that says, ‘Better luck next time’, with a silly ufo flying around it.” Indeed, it was exactly as described, with a single chord visible beside a small line leading into the drywall. A officerwith an x-ray quirk was on their way, but for now, they simply left it alone and simply watched as a small team moved the table. Naomasa pointed at the small chord. “That right there is a wire patched into the central servers of Masquerade for all of Akihabara. They were completely unaware of the hole in their security, and we had a team backing it up. But with old companies like these, their paperwork starts to get pretty inaccurate once you hit a century or two old.”

Eraserhead nodded, looking through the room, his eyes falling on an area clear of dust on the floor. He walked up to it, crouching down. “Something was here, a large rectangular object of some kind. You said Joker didn’t have anything on him when you saw him, right?”

Naomasa shook his head, scratching his chin idly. “No, he could have hidden something under his coat, but the dust outline indicates an object that would be too big to hide there. He must have stashed it somewhere before the video, or he could have had an accomplice. That would explain why he caused such a large distraction directly after leaving here.”

Aizawa nodded slowly, looking over the room. “It would be logical, but some recent information has forced me to doubt how logical our vigilante really is.” Naomasa looked to him, but Eraserhead just shook his head. “Sorry, can’t tell you yet, just some possible info I’ll have to look at later.” Naomasa nodded, pulling out a notebook and writing in it.

There was a moment of calm as the two tried to salvage a clue from the seemingly clean crime scene before the forensic team showed up. At least, that’s what they were trying to do, until loud footsteps began sounding from behind them. Eraserhead slowly turned, raising an eyebrow as one of the top-ten crashed through the police line heading straight towards him. “Eraserhead! I want in on this case!” 

The Erasure hero sighed, running a hand through his stubble as he looked to Miruko. He hated politics, but disregarding them would cause trouble. And one of the major rules of hero politics is that if a top-ten asks to join your case, you let them. Maybe you backline them so they don’t get in the way, but they can put their name on the case. He shook his head. “Of course you do *sigh*. Should I even ask why you want in on a case to chase a thief and vigilante?”

Miruko paused, looking over the room. “Kid had moves, moves that could make him a great hero if we can get his head on straight. So when we catch him, I want to be in the interrogation room. I’ll make him a sidekick, force him to know how to really kick in a villain’s head, and make him a great hero myself!”

Eraserhead scoffed slightly at her words.But considering it was a good reason, even if he disagreed with the wording, he decided not to comment. “Fine, you can join in the case. Just know that most of this case is underground, and info isn’t always shared. Unlike you spotlight heroes, when you’re working underground, telling your team everything you know can get an informant killed.”

Miruko stomped a foot on the ground, causing a few of the less-experienced officers to flinch back. “FINE! Just shoot the files to me later. And if you’re going to meet with a contact, I want to join in. I can... understand if I can’t go with, but I want to meet some informants myself.”

Eraserhead smiled, which caused the experienced officers to flinch. “Of course. In fact, I was going to talk to one of them tonight. Promise you won’t jump him, and I’ll tell you the details.”

***

Akira Kurusu groaned as he walked up to his apartment. His body was aching, and every limb felt heavy as a massive headache seemed to splinter through his skull. Of course, the heavy briefcase that kept hitting his already sore leg wasn’t helping. He opened his door, and let out another groan. Giran was sitting in his easy chair, smiling lazily as he flipped through a book. “Well kid, I’ll admit it. You surprised me. Didn’t expect to see you after that stunt with Miruko.” 

Akira grunted, placing the briefcase on the table before heading to his small kitchen. “What can I say, I’m a man of many talents. Were we starting with you bringing dinner, or do I need to make some curry?”

Giran smiled, his gold tooth glinting in the light. “I thought since we didn’t agree earlier, I’d treat you. Dinner’s over here.”

Akira nodded, stumbling his way to the seating area and grudgingly flopped onto his couch. “Cool, what are we eating?”

Giran reached down, pulling out a bag of takeout. “Chinese, fresh from some back-alley joint that costs nothing and cooks great. Good businessmen can always minimize losses.”

Akira rolled his eyes. “Of course, now if only I cared the slightest bit about business so that advice wasn’t wasted.”

Giran pulled a fork out of its plastic case, pointing it at Akira threateningly. “Hey punk, don’t diss your guardian. He might just forget to mention the techie he found for you.”

Akira sat up. “Really? Nice, with them in my roster, I could start getting some more work done, actually make some new calling cards, get some more grey market info without burning through cash or favors. I really need that. When can we meet?” 

Giran opened his container, pulling out a piece of chicken and taking a bite. There was a moment of silence as he chewed before Akira groaned, opening his own container and beginning his dinner. Giran smiled as he swallowed. “Good boy. Now, he said he was free this weekend. I took the liberty of thinking of a few places you could meet, do you want the list?”

Akira shook his head, slurping up some noodles. “Nah, tell him to meet me at LeBlanc cafe in Yongen-Jaya. Two o’clock on Saturday. I’ll be in a new outfit, so I’ll be sitting in the farthest bar from the entrance. Tell him to ask me why the train is late. If it’s me, I’ll respond with the word shadows.”

Giran nodded. “Weird phrase, but I doubt some random person will respond with it. Then I’ll send word. If he says something about train fare I’ll cover it, but I expect a cut from your first job. With that done let’s eat.” He flashed a smirk at Akira. “And maybe see what’s in that fancy briefcase.” Akira smiled back, nodding his head. 

Their conversation descended into small talk, with Giran complaining about his clients, while Akira complained about having to learn code-breaking based on old quotes. Neither really understood the other, but it didn’t stop the easy laughs that flowed through the conversation. As the food slowly disappeared, Akira introduced coffee to the mix. Sharing drinks over empty containers, the conversation slowly winded down. After a peaceful silence, Giran gestured to the briefcase. “So, can I see what’s in your prize box, or should I go ahead and go.”

Akira paused a moment, thinking through his options. He could easily dismiss him. Giran worked with the dark side of the world, and even between contacts, secrets were common. But, it wouldn’t hurt much to show him, and the increased trust might be worth it. He drummed his fingers on the armrest of his couch before he reached a conclusion. Giran was listed as his legal guardian. If he was going to betray him, then it would have happened already. He nodded. “Yeah, I can show you. Let me grab it.” 

He stood up, reaching the case that should hold all of Oracle’s old equipment, before lowering it onto his coffee table. “Okay, so I think I know what’s in here, but if I’m wrong, don’t hold it against me.” He put his thumb on the biometric lock, and smiled as the small light turned green. The case opened easily, and Akira froze. He expected the red goggles that was Futaba’s frog-like mask. The black one in front of him was not Futaba’s. Judging by the large, scythe shaped ax, it was Haru’s. He grabbed the note taped to the ax and opened it. There was a drawing of a sad Futaba, with a short note written under it.

I’m sorry Joker. I was having a bad day and convinced myself you wouldn’t even look for my case, so I may have... swapped it with Haru’s. I know, I’m sorry. You wouldn’t rest until you had everyone’s, but I just... I needed to know you would find mine. I’m really hoping you didn’t need my mask for something specific, but I just wanted to be sure. I talk about it in one of the videos on this laptop, so please don’t hate me? : (

Akira smirked at the letter, raising his free hand to it for a moment. A sudden cough jarred him back to reality. He shook his head, putting the letter down. “Sorry Giran, needed to read that. Anyways, you’re looking at the gear of one of my... associates.”

Giran nodded, peering into the box with wide eyes. “Damn kid, is the Ax big enough?”

Akira smiled. “We called her the Berserk Princess. She could swing this thing around like it was nothing.” He hoisted the Ax, only to very nearly drop it as the grenade launcher underneath it revealed itself. It wasn’t her beautiful piece of art she had used at the end of their adventure. Instead, inside was simply the small one-shot version she used when weight was an issue. 

Giran whistled. “An ax and a grenade launcher. What? Did she exclusively hunt giants and sea monsters?”

Akira smiled, remembering how she had once turned a Scylla into a pile of ash with a single blast. “You aren’t wrong. Our little princess was vicious.” There was a beep from his burner phone, causing him to pull it out. Eraserhead had messaged him, asking him for a meetup tonight. He paused, looking at his mask for a moment. “Hey, Giran. I just had a prime opportunity fall into my lap. Mind heading out for the night?”

Giran nodded. “Now that I know you’re apparently robbing ancient arm caches, I think I kind of want to go home. Keep yourself safe kid.” Akira nodded, already reaching for the mask while he told Eraserhead where to meet his contact. He couldn’t stop the cocky smirk from spreading over his face.

***

Eraserhead walked beside Miruko as they approached Dagobah beach, walking calmly despite the hero beside him angrily stomping around. He avoided her glare as she turned to him. “No, seriously. If this kid is one of your informants, then why don’t we just take him then? Make our lives a hell of a lot easier.”

Eraserhead rubbed his eyes, willing Miruko to understand with pure will. He cursed the fact that wouldn’t work for a moment before speaking. “Because then I would lose every informant I have. I can apprehend him if I see him outside of our meetings, but not without due cause. Besides, I think he’s in some trouble. Just grabbing him might make his situation even worse.” He raised up his capture scarf, hiding his face. “Besides, I think he’s worried about that. He’s not coming himself, he apparently sent a trusted contact.”

As they finally saw the beach Miruko stopped. “Yeah, I think I found them. Can’t imagine a civilian out at night drawing sand art with an ax.”

Eraserhead stared at the beach. Indeed, there was a man happily dancing across the beach, spinning around an ax as tall as he was. He had black hair, but unlike both Akira’s and Joker’s, it was mostly straight, with a ponytail peeking out from under a large hat with a feather sticking out. He wore a red blazer over a simple white dress shirt. His antiquated pants were slightly fluffed, at least until they reached the thick, blue combat boots on his feet. There was something strapped to his side, but the fading light made it impossible to discern. He walked closer, raising his voice when he spoke. “Hey, are you our contact?”

The figure slammed the top of the ax down, spinning around it with carefree glee. “That depends sir, are you Eraserhead?” Eraserhead nodded, not moving closer until he knew what was going on. The person nodded, jumping off the ax and bowing. “Then I am. Joker said you were as trustworthy as could be expected. I am known as Berserker, please take care of me.”

Miruko scoffed as she walked up. “Look kid, this cutesy crap isn’t going to fly with me here. What do you have for us?”

Berserker looked up, one corner of his dark mask raising. “Oh, you brought a friend? How wonderful!” He clapped once, a genuine smile crossing his face. “With how Joker described you, I was afraid you were so grumpy you wouldn’t have very many. But I digress, my apologies. But, I have very little for you, in fact I was sent to see what exactly Eraserhead wanted. He did call Joker after all.”

Eraserhead nodded, holding an arm in front of Miruko. “I was worried. Joker has never pulled a daylight operation before, at least, not one so visible. Did something happen? Is he alright?”

Miruko paused behind Eraserhead’s arm but didn’t speak as Berserker smiled. “Oh, you were worried, how sweet! Don’t you worry, not a single hair on Joker’s head was hurt. Miruko tensed at this, which made Berserkers smile shift. “Oh, that’s where I recognize you from. You’re the rabbit that chased him.” Berserker moved one hand to rest on his ax handle. “Just so you know, those of us that are in Joker’s little group are very protective of our leader. We’re all trying to get Joker to start chasing you down, no one should ever try to hurt my little kouhai after all.”

There was a moment of tension before Berserker burst out laughing. “Oh, don’t you worry. Joker is more understanding than us. Different sides of the same coin and all that. If we aren’t in public, he thinks we can be friendly. We all want the same thing after all.” Berserker spun around his ax like it was a dancing pole, hooking one of his legs around it while he spun around. “Justice waits for no one after all. I do have some info for you. Joker said he’d cover the bill. Something about settling a debt. UA is going to be infiltrated soon. Joker is unsure when, but my money is on some time in the next two or three days.” 

Eraserhead tensed, feeling Miruko do the same. He reached to calm her, but she had already taken a step closer. “No. I won’t leave with just that. Give us some more, or wait until you’re at the station, but if that’s all you give us I’m taking you in, whether Eraserhead agrees or not.”

The tension thickened to a nearly physical level for half a moment, and as Berserker finished his spin he jumped forward. The item on his wrist was raised, and both heroes froze as they recognized it. A grenade launcher calmly pointed between them. Berserkers smile widened. “Oh really? I assumed a hero in the top ten would be smarter than that. I doubt I could hit both of you, but am I really worth at least one hero dying in the most beautiful of betrayals?” He let out a titter of laughter, his body trembling. Throughout it Miruko took note of how steady the launcher stayed. That and the target. It was pointed directly at Eraserhead, the one who couldn’t dodge a grenade mid-flight. 

Luckily he stepped forward, raising his hands. “We aren’t going to do anything.” He leveled a glare at Miruko, one that made her flash-back to school She felt like a first-year getting reprimanded all over again. With that done, Eraserhead slowly lowered his hands. “We’ll leave. Tell Joker I want to meet him again. One on one, no guests. Miruko won’t be tagging along again.”

Berserker giggled again, making both heroes repress the urge to flinch. It wasn’t as friendly as before. It sounded like a cat giggling at the mouse it had just cornered. “Oh dear, that won’t do. Joker was actually very interested in talking to her again. After all, there aren’t many who have given him such a fun chase. Anyways my time is up. I have some work to do tomorrow, so if you would kindly leave, I would appreciate it.”

Both heroes turned around, Eraserhead putting a hand on Miruko’s shoulder as they walked away. She wanted to shrug it off, to complain that some weakling had no right to keep her under control. But instead, she found herself thinking. Berserker was an interesting look into Joker’s mentality. He had at least one person so far in his corner they would throw down with heroes for him. If Berserker was to be believed, he had a whole team. So why did he work mostly alone? And why were they just now figuring it out?


	14. Hold The Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The test begins and ends!

Akira Kurusu yawned as he snuggled closer into his bag. He had another twenty minutes until class started, and with Iida distracted by a situation in the hallway, he was free to sleep happily. There was a shuffling in front of him, and the student in front of him sat down. Tokoyami was putting his bag down beside him, readying a pencil and notebook. Akira grunted as his way of greeting, leaning back down. He heard a huff of laughter from Tokoyami. “Were you cavorting in the witching hour as well? Us creatures of darkness have many trials come dawn.”

Akira nodded, before deciding he had enough sleep. He rose like a leviathan, pulling his thermos up with him as he took a sip of his custom wake-up drink, strange colors flowing off of it as he glanced at it with his Third Eye on. Tokoyami looked at the clear bottle, worry crossing his beak. Somehow. “Um, I feel I must ask. What is that?”

Akira looked in his thermos. It held all the colors of the rainbow in its body, swirling and mixing with the beauty and danger of an ancient god. “Well, it started out as coffee. I have another thermos of that in my bag, but for this one...” Akira dredged his memory, pulling the ingredients out of his memory. “I added two five-hour energy shots, half a can of Monster, and a red-bull.” He took a large draft of it, feeling a hundred flavors hit his tongue. “And whatever mixture I made at work yesterday. If I’m lucky, I’ll be wide awake when it hits my heart. If I’m unlucky, I’ll just die.”

Tokoyami paused, looking between the drink that seemed to have an aura of bloodlust all its own, and back to Akira. “We must all face our deaths at some point. I respect your willingness to face it now.”

Akira raised his glass, smirking at his bird-friend. “Cheers mate.” He then took another sip, feeling his body jolt as another successful attack hit home. He smiled as he felt his heart begin to race, stretching out to increase his most powerful potion’s effect. He waved as Jirou walked in, his smile turning into a smirk. “Ready for our first heroics class Jirou?”

She smiled back, moving to her desk beside him. “Yeah, I heard through the grapevine that our uniforms are ready, so we’ll get the prototypes today.”

Akira nodded, pointedly ignoring Jirou’s raised eyebrow at his drink as he took another sip. “Yeah, sounds cool. I hope they got all my gear finished, it’d suck to have to use my homemade stuff.”

Jirou nodded, but Tokoyami turned around. “Homemade? You’ve crafted versions of your own support equipment?” Akira nodded and was about to respond before the door slammed open again.

His Third Eye was off before All Might spoke, Akira nearly flinching as the hero’s shout coincided with a single flash of pure red before his vision returned to normal. “I AM HERE FOR TODAY’S EXCITING TRAINING!” The room erupted into cheers as All Might waved his hand, restoring order out of the respect the class held for him. “NOW, TODAY WE’RE GOING TO BE DOING MY FAVORITE TYPE OF TRAINING!” All Might spun around, revealing a small note card held between his gigantic fingers. The text half-hidden by his thumb. “BATTLE TRAINING, BUT THAT’S NOT ALL!”

He reached to the wall, flicking a switch beside him. Akira raised an eyebrow as the wall opened up, revealing twenty cases on the wall. All Might gestured to them with his trademark grin. No, really. Akira checked, his grin was trademarked. “THESE ARE YOUR HERO COSTUMES! GRAB THEM AND HEAD TO TRAINING GROUND BETA! WE HAVE TRAINING TO DO!”

Akira didn’t bother rushing the costumes, letting his classmates do so in something reminiscent of a piranha’s feeding frenzy. Akira slowly stood as the class began to sprint to the training ground, grabbing the only case left. With a lazy salute to All Might, Akira walked to the window. He opened it to peek out and smiled wide, grabbing his drink and bag. “Thank you for the instruction All Might. I’ll see you at the field.” He turned around to look as All Might’s eternal smile faltered, and Akira leaned back. The open window let him through easily as Akira felt the wind whip his face. The classroom was on one of the higher floors, which meant he would probably die if he just let himself drop like a sack of potatoes, but out of view from All Might, he can use a few tricks. His Third Eye opened wide, and his face split into a grin as a soft blue outline coated a ledge jutting out below him. He snapped his arms to it, flipping his body as he grabbed it, and slowed down in one smooth motion. He jumped backward towards a nearby tree. With calm thoughts, he jumped from branch to branch, smiling as he reached a landing, directly in the middle of a class that apparently decided to teach outside today.

He stared at the students around him, then at the hero teaching the course. Snipe stared back, looking at him from underneath his gasmask while his right hand rested on his revolver. By reflex, Akira opened his Third Eye, seeing the red fog in harsh straight lines around the teacher. He paused at the revolver, where six lines all sat, unmoving at the grip. “Well, Howdy. Do I want to know why in the Sam Hell you just dropped from a tree?”

Akira blinked while his Third Eye closed, and looked at the students again. Some kid with winds circling his hair, a dude with floaty purple hair and eyebags to rival Aizawa, a few others that were less outlandish looking. He took it all in for a moment before turning back to Snipe. “I’m looking for training ground beta.”

Snipe looked up and saw the head of All Might looking down, before nodding. “Ah, Class 1-A then. I had heard a few of ya were handfull’s, but you’re making me glad I ain’t your teacher.” He pointed down a path beside them, a large building in the distance. “That place right there is what you’re looking for. Just don’t jump outta any more trees. I just about drew on ya.”

Akira smiled. “If you shot me, you wouldn’t be the first. Thanks for the directions Snipe-Sensei!” While the class chewed on that, Akira turned around and bolted down the path, rejoicing in the murmurs behind him as he began to reclaim his title as the local cryptid. He enjoyed the freedom such a title offered. No one questioned when they saw the local cryptid fall out of trees, or perch up on a street lamp at three in the morning. It was a powerful title, and as he stepped into an empty locker room at site beta he knew how he could keep it going. He pulled out his phone, putting it down beside him. In a flash of blue flame, his outfit shifted, the comfortable leather jacket closing around him. He grabbed the key taped to the top of his case and flipped the lock. Leaving the replica of his outfit, he pulled the black single-strap backpack from the case, and shut the it again. He crammed the case in a locker before putting on the backpack upside down. With that done, he leaned against the wall and grabbed his phone, opening it to the news.

Iida Tenya was the first student through the door when the males arrived at the locker room. Or at least, he thought he was. So when he spotted Akira already there, playing on his phone in what was obviously a hero costume, he nearly fell down in shock. He had made good time, he thought, and from the rest of the class following behind him to stare at the mysterious student who barely talked to the class, he had to guess they did too. So how had Akira beaten them here? Especially with enough time to change. He raised his arm, repeatedly gesturing at Akira as he spoke, “You, how did you manage to get here first? We saw your quirk assessment, and you didn’t have a teleportation quirk!”

Akira raised a single finger, his eyes scanning his phone again before he smiled. “Sorry, checking if they want me to pull a shift at work tonight. To answer your question, I took a shortcut.”

There was a pregnant moment before Akira stood up and stretched, waving to his class. “Well, I’m going to head on to the training ground. See you guys when you get changed.” He grabbed his thermos, which made Tokoyami flinch.

Akira walked out, leaving the rest of the class to change. Kaminari looked at the jacketed teenager with a flabbergasted expression. “Yo, did this guy really just pop over here like some discount batman?” 

Iida hadn’t expected Kaminari to be the one to speak and turned to him suddenly. “Who’s Batman?”

Akira found an area he assumed would be their staging point, and moved to a nearby half-wall. He jumped onto it, leaning back into a sleeping position and opening his bottle again, drinking more of Willy Wonka’s nightmare. He felt his pupils dilate, his heart beating quicker with every second. He smiled, leaning his head back. He was interrupted by a throat clearing. “Young Akira, while I appreciate a student trying to get to class as fast as possible, could you please refrain from jumping out windows?”

Akira tilted his head back, seeing All Might, as well as a few classmates looking at him. All Might looked slightly worried, while his classmates stared at him in horror. He smirked, playing up the role All Might had so graciously given him. “But sensei, the feeling of wind, the approach of death, how could I not do that every chance I get? It’s so fun.”

All Might froze, and Akira didn’t bother hiding the chuckle that escaped as the rest of the class walked up while talking about their hero costumes. Akira did hear All Might mutter a quick note to pass that to Hound Dog, and Akira knew he had a therapy session in his future. That was future Akira’s problem though. Current Akira’s problems were far simpler. He vaguely listened to All Might describe the exercise. Villains protect a bomb, heroes secure it. He paused at that, looking at the ballots in the box. All Might held up one of each, just to show the H or V on it.

Akira knew which one he wanted, and was praying for lady luck to see him through. He reached into the basket first, and the grin nearly split his lips. The prominent V on the paper showed he was a villain. He smiled as he walked back, pausing at Mina’s costume for a second. She saw him as he looked, and winked at him. He winked back, spinning his backpack to his front. He moved back to his half-wall, searching the bag for the things he needed to look over before trusting they were all there. First came a small tube hooked into the top of the bag. With a flick of his wrist, the baton expanded, reaching out about two feet. He shook it up and down slowly, feeling the weight and balance of it before nodding. He pressed the small button on the grip and collapsed it again, sliding it easily into his jacket pocket. He then looked in the rest of the bag. There was a small bag labeled smoke, a small bag labeled paint, and a few speakers knocking around in the bottom. While the rest of the class talked about their places Akira took the time to sync each of the speakers to his phone.

He looked up as someone approached him. Yaomomo’s hero outfit was... bad. Akira assumed there was a reason for a cutaway one-piece swimsuit as a hero costume, but he couldn’t fathom it. She smiled at him, prompting him to smirk back. She raised up a card. “Team E for the villains?” 

Akira’s smirk widened. “Oh Hell yes. You are perfect.” Akira jumped from his half-wall, looking at Yaomomo for a moment. “You can make stuff right, like Tripwires and explosives and the like?”

Yaomomo nodded, a slight blush appearing on her face. “Yes. Shall we take the rounds leading to our round as time to plan?”

Akira nodded as All Might called a team that wasn’t his up. Akira jumped the half-wall and sat behind it, gesturing Yaomomo to sit beside him. She took the more professional option and walked around it, leaning up against the wall as Akira thumbed the zipper of his bag. “So I’m not gonna lie, I’m gonna be going full Hanoi Hannah.”

Yaomomo paused, looking at Akira with a raised eyebrow. “Hanoi Hannah?”

Akira paused, before remembering the Vietnam war was now not only a war they had no part in, but was almost three hundred years ago. “Old war story. She would talk soldiers into surrendering and defecting while her soldiers hunted them down. I’m going to do a full-scale psychological attack. I need you to stay with the bomb while I cause chaos.”

Yaomomo paused. “Are you certain that’s a good idea? I know neither of us has a particularly offensive quirk, but I believe I would do better as a front line fighter than you.” 

Akira tried to be polite. He really did, but the chuckles that broke out couldn’t be stopped. He raised a hand, trying to ward off the offended look Yaomomo was giving him. “I’m sorry, I really am. It’s just...” He zipped up his backpack, ignoring the explosion that sounded off from behind him. “I can guarantee I’ve been in more fights with higher stakes than you. If you had done the same things I’d done, you would be the scariest person in this school. But with my little quirk.” He smiled, shifting his expression to innocent joy. “There’s not a single person in our class that I think can take me down.”

Yaomomo took a step back, as her heart-rate spiked. She suddenly felt like the creature in front of her was far more dangerous than she thought. The leather jacket zipped around him tensed in all the wrong ways, his legs, so relaxed. Still, he seemed ready to charge or fight at a moment’s notice. Then, his arm moved, ever so slowly, to his pocket. And... the feeling died. Suddenly, Akira was normal, smiling at her loosely as All Might shouted. “HEROES WIN!”

There was a moment of silence as Akira’s expression fell. “You okay, Yaomomo? You don’t look so good.”

Yaomomo shook her head, barely hearing as their team was called up. “N-no, I’m fine. We’ll try it your way. Please take care of at least one of them.” 

Akira scoffed, walked forward with his hands in his pockets, slowing his pace until she caught up. As they walked up, he turned his eyes to the hero teams area. A red-haired boy with spiked up hair was chatting happily with... a pair of floating gloves. Akira stumbled, before confirming All Might was behind him. Once he had assured himself it was safe to look, he flipped on his Third eye. Suddenly a girl was wearing the gloves, and nothing else. With a blush rapidly rising up his face, Akira turned forward again, looking at the building they would be defending.

It was four stories tall, and they were told nothing of its layout. The bomb was sitting by the door, obviously waiting on him and Yaomomo to move it. He fixed his fingerless gloves out of habit. “Okay, I’ll move it in, if there’s a basement I’d say hide it there, while I lead the heroes up. Can you make explosives?”

Yaomomo paused. “Er, yes. But I don’t think destroying the building is going to be graded well.”

Akira smiled, grabbing a small handle on the bomb, and pulling out a single speaker. He placed it in the doorframe and walked in. “We’re not blowing the building, just the stairs up. Once we find a place for the bomb, I want you to blow the stairs and then turn the bombsite into a spider’s web of traps. In a perfect world, they won’t even reach you before time is up, but just in case. I’m thinking that winning on time will be easier than capture.”

Yaomomo paused at the central area as Akira paused, opening a small sack held in his bag and scattering a handful of beads from it on the floor. She opened her mouth to ask about them, but was cut off by Akira looking at the stairwell. “Score! There is a basement, and it’s in the normal stairwell. Make those charges Yaomomo, we’ve got some misdirection to plan.”

Kirishima smiled as All Might announced the beginning of the exercise. He would never go so far as to say he liked violence, but a red-blooded spar, that was just showing the world how manly you are. He tapped the communicator on his ear and turned to Hagakure. “So, you’re gonna go find the bomb, and when you find it, radio me. Then we’ll crash their party, right?”

Hagakure’s glove’s waved briefly before being slid off. “Yep, I wanna show that jerk what for! Distracting me while I was taking that dumb quirk assessment. I nearly had a heart attack when I got in last!”

Kirishima smiled. “Well now’s your chance to show off. Let’s go!”

He watched as the shoes walked in silently, only for a burst of static to sound as soon as she was fully inside the building. Akira’s voice seeming to come from several places in their make-shift base. “Really now, heroes? I’m holding onto a bomb that could turn this whole block into ash and death, and you’re wasting time coming in one at a time? How pitiful. But I suppose it’s to be expected, when one of you has never had to deal with being the center of attention in her life, she thinks she can skate by on it.” There was a pause while Hagakure threw off her shoes, making her footsteps slightly louder.

Kirishima stared as he assumed she took a few more steps before the voice spoke up again. “Really, thinking about finding a trapdoor, Hagakure? Thought you’d be in more of a rush. But I suppose you still think yourself invisible. By the way, I love your ponytail, much better than your normal bushy look.”

Then true silence descended. Kirishima looked into the empty room, trying to tease out the mystery of what was happening before his comm crackled. “Crap, Akira can see me! I don’t know how but he can totally see me!”

Kirishima frowned, abandoning his original plan and running inside. He felt something crack under his heavy combat boots as he rushed into the central chamber, covering the area in smoke. All the while, Akira chuckled. “Come now heroes, you can do better than that. How about this, if you get up here and fight me fair and square, I’ll tell whoever is left at the end how to get to the bomb. I’m sure Yaomomo will get bored all up there on her own.”

Kirishima looked around, finding the stairwell through the heavy smoke around him. “Hagakure! Get over here! They’ve blown the staircase, but we can climb up!” 

A rock falling from above him was the only warning he received before a second one fell down, smacking him in the back. He grunted, turning around as his body hardened, and saw Akira, crouched down a few feet above him, a collapsible baton in hand. “Well hero, gonna come and get me? Or are you so weak you have to get help from the only person in this course without a combat-oriented quirk?”

Kirishima growled. “Look bro, I can appreciate dedicating yourself to the bit, but insulting your classmates just isn’t manly, especially since we’re trying to be heroes! We promise to protect everyone!”

Akira chuckled, his voice still coming from every direction. “Perhaps you're right.” Akira stood, turning around. “Maybe I’m not very good at being manly. But, I can do bad things. And I do that very well. Come on, we don’t have all day, and I’d hate for you to never even see the bomb before twenty lives become little more than a faded newspaper article. I want to see your face when the light flashes and your world is reduced to a single... broken... promise.”

He walked off, the thump of his boots echoing down the hall as Kirishima scrambled up the broken stairs. “Hagakure, we don’t have time, where are you?!” All he got in return was static. He winced, realizing that while he was distracted by their entry he had lost track of her.

***

Hagakure stumbled into the smoke-filled stairwell, and was nearly pushed over as Kirishima charged in. She let out a quiet growl as she recovered, but froze as she heard Akira. Not just his voice over the speakers he had obviously hidden around the area, but right above her. She took a step back, trying to remain silent, only for the ground to slip from beneath her, sending her sprawling down a hole in the floor. There was a pause as she looked around the darkness, before a single click flooded the area in light, a small amount of fog surrounding her. She could see the bomb in front of her just as Akira invited Kirishima up to follow him. She raised her hand to her communicator. “Kirishima, don’t listen to him, the bombs in the basement!”

All she heard was static, and a light giggle. She looked over the room and saw what was in the corner. Yaoyorozu was smiling, stepping forward with a flashlight hooked to her outfit. “I’m afraid that won’t work, Hagakure. I’ll admit I thought Akira was a small bit paranoid when he asked for chaff fog, but it seems to have been a wise choice. I can see you through this fog, and you can’t reach your partner.” Yaoyorozu bowed slightly, the smirk never leaving her face. “So as any good host should, I’ll ask a simple question.” Her hand glowed, a small staff forming in her grip. “Would you like to step into my parlor?”

***

Kirishima made it up the stairs as All Might came over the intercom. “TEN MINUTES LEFT HEROES, BETTER GET A MOVE ON!”

He couldn’t stop the smile that appeared as he noticed the trail of dust on the floor, obviously left by Akira leaving. He had kept his communicator on, so he simply spoke as he followed his new breadcrumb trail. “Hagakure, I think I’ve got a lead on Akira. You nearby?” More static sounded, and he felt his smile slip. Hagakure had said she would try to respond, but if she was going full stealth, than she wouldn’t want to tell everyone where she was. He shook off his worries, his smile returning as he followed the dust like a bloodhound.

The dust went in circles, looping back over itself several times before Kirishima realized he was being strung along. As soon as he did, he looked up, and finally saw the rafters above him. Akira was smiling down at him, his baton resting easily in his grip. “Y’know Kirishima, I do have to give you some props. Some of the students out there wouldn’t have realized they were getting pulled along by the nose until it was far too late. As it is now, you still have a chance to win.” Akira spun his baton easily, jumping back as Kirishima jumped at him. With a small flip, he landed on a rafter behind him, his smirk visible. “I mean, it’s a small chance, but hey! That’s still possible!”

As Kirishima lept forward again, Akira made note of his sight. The yellow of Kirishima had turned red in a few key places. His fists, his chest, his head. But his back was still a soft yellow. That was all the hints that Akira needed. With a laugh, he jumped towards Kirishima, watching as the hardened boy’s fist seemed to sharpen, and Akira reached out. When Kirishima’s punch shot towards him, it was met with an open palm. Fingers snaked around Kirishima’s wrist, while his momentum shifted. There was a moment of confusion before his back exploded in pain as a loud smack echoed through the room.

Kirishima fell hard, his back hardening as he felt two boots land on it while they fell. The impact of the ground had him seeing stars, and the boots on top of him jumped back. Kirishima forced himself onto his knees, only for a boot to find it’s way into a rib where his hardening had slipped, sending him crashing back into the floor. A voice froze both of them. All Might’s powerful shout causing a moment of peace. “TOORU HAGAKURE HAS BEEN CAPTURED!” Both parties on the second floor stared at the speaker in the corner, and when they looked at each other again, Akira smiled, and Kirishima felt a cold shiver run up his spine.”

***

Hagakure looked from Yaoyorozu to the smoke surrounding them. Momo was the only source of light in the room, and with her comms down, she would have to fight her off on her own. She raised her fists and cursed as the fog rolled around her, leaving a visible gap where she was. But, she wasn’t defenseless. It would be hard to see her, and if she could exploit that, then she would be able to capture the bomb all on her own. Then she could rub it in Akira’s face. Make her fail, and she’ll do the same. She moved slowly in a half-circle, trying to shorten the gap between her and the bomb. Yaoyorozu did the same, keeping herself as a human wall between the invisible girl and her objective. 

The staredown continued, each one trying to slowly outmaneuver the other until Yaoyorozu smiled wide. “Say, do you happen to know what chaff actually is? It’s thin metal flakes floating in the air. It causes the signals ofany wireless technology to bounce around uselessly instead of transmitting. Unfortunately, it makes me as deaf to my partner as you are. But it does have one nice hidden upside.” Yaoyorozu slammed her staff into the ground and kicked a small metal box behind her. Hagakure watched in horror as the box let off a few sparks, and the world slowed down. She saw as the slivers of metal lit up with electricity arcing through each of the shavings. Then time resumed, and she was surrounded by the power of Raijin. Lightning arced through her body. She heard a scream, and through squinting eyes, she could see Yaoyorozu screaming to the heavens, but the metal rod channeled most of the power instead of her body. Hagakure had no such defense, and found her mind overwhelmed with pain. As her body jerked and began to collapse, the lightning stopped. Yaoyorozu fell to one knee, and as darkness clouded her vision, Hagakure realized she was falling as well. 

Yaoyorozu slowly rose, using her pole to steady herself as her muscles screamed in torment. She remained steady for several seconds, only to collapse again. She spit out some excess saliva, grinding her teeth as she dropped her pole and grabbed her capture tape. Without a word of fanfare, she crawled forward. It might take her a second, but she was going to get a capture today. Even if the whole thing had been Akira’s idea. She winced at that. Another student outhinking her was a bit hard to swallow, but right now... Right now she could live with it.

***

Akira looked down at Kirishima. The areas that were red had faded, the surprisingly firm fog surrounding parts of his body fading in and out. If he had to guess, Kirishima wasn’t used to straining his quirk yet. Unfortunately for him, Akira could go all day. He smirked as he knelt down. “And now we face the worst fact of life hero. When the sun sets, and a villain with the lives of hundreds in his grip is looking down on you, you may very well be alone. When that happens, what are you going to do? Will you roll over and die? Or will you stand up with bloody arms and broken legs, and fight to your last?”

Kirishima felt a hand rest on his back, and Akira muttered something under his breath. Suddenly, Kirishima felt his second wind, rising quickly while slapping the hand from his back. “Really dude? Trying to teach me about determination mid-fight?” Suddenly the frowns from earlier in the exercise disappeared, a fun-loving smile replacing them. “I mean, it’s super manly and all, but you’re talking to the most determined person here!” He raised his fists, his smile wide and welcoming. “So let’s get it on!”

Akira smiled, spinning his baton before lowering his arms, seeming to adopt a more relaxed stance. His weapon held up at his side. “Let’s.” And that was when a small pop sounded from below them, and all the lights shut off. Kirishima faltered, his guard lowering. In that one second, he felt cloth loop his hands, and then tighten. “KIRISHIMA EIJIRO HAS BEEN CAPTURED! VILLAINS WIN!”

The lights came on again, and Kirishima jumped back as Akira stood right in front of him, his cocky smirk morphed into an easy smile. “Sorry about that, better luck next time.” He offered a hand up to Kirishima, which the redhead easily took, smiling the whole way. Akira dusted off his jacket. “Sorry about that by the way. It was a bad match up for you two. When I can clearly see invisible people as well as which areas of your body are hardened, it makes the fight a lot easier.”

Kirishima looked at Akira’s mask for a minute. “Dang man, what’s your quirk again? I thought you’d get armor or something.”

Akira smiled, winking at him. “Third Eye. With a bit of focus, I see everything hidden, from somebody’s strength to their next attack, to lost keys, I see it all.”

Kirishima laughed, wincing as he leaned over his injured side. “Ow, laughing isn’t great. Anyways, it’s super manly to jump into a fight with such a non-combative quirk! I respect that!”

Akira nodded back as he began walking out of the building, shutting off his Third Eye as soon as he could see the massive red aura of All Might, if only to block the nearly traumatic level of fear he felt whenever he saw that monstrosity. He reached the basement stairs, seeing Momo holding what appeared to be nothing. He smiled down at them, lowering himself before offering both hands. “You girls need a lift?”

Momo smiled back up to him. “That would be most appreciated.” She lifted Hagakure towards Akira, who waited until an arm found its way into his grasp. He hauled her up easily, passing her to Kirishima who tried his hardest to both not touch her at all, and still support her so she could walk out. Akira winced as he saw dust shuffling, holding a hand down for Yaomomo. “Sorry about that plan, Hagakure. It was the only thing I could think of to reliably put down an invisible opponent.”

There was a moment before a hand found its way to his, and he started pulling his partner up. A trembling voice came from beside Kirishima. “So it was your plan! F-figures.”

Akira nodded. “Yeah, using an aoe type of attack was the only sure-fire way to keep you down. That invisibility would make anyone without a quirk like mine think twice before starting a fight.”

Hagakure didn’t seem to move, but Kirishima noted the way her body tensed. “Y-yeah. Can we head back to where I dropped my stuff off? I kinda hate walking around barefoot.”

Akira nodded, moving towards the exit. “Yeah, it Makes me glad I have nice thick boots. Meet you guys at the class.” With his piece said, Akira turned around, walking to the rest of the class as he hummed softly, his hands jammed in his pockets.

Hagakure glared as he walked off, shooting him a stink-eye as Kirishima helped her to her clothes. She let out a huff of air. “I don’t like him.”

Yaomomo raised an eyebrow at her, grabbing her shoes from their landing point. “Really? He can be a bit harsh, and a bit distant, but he tends to be a nice young man. Apparently he’s been training with Jirou for a few months now.”

Hagakure paused. “Really, with how he acted I guessed he was one of those people that liked to be alone all the time. Like Todoroki.”

Yaomomo shook her head. “No, I just think he’s very private. Something must be up if he has permission to leave early every couple of days.” Hagakure shrugged as she put her gloves back on. Even if he had something going on, he was still a dick. That much hadn’t changed from her initial read of him. After all, who made a plan that involved their teammate getting tazed?

***

All Might looked over the returning teams, Akira coming back after giving his teammate and opponents some help in getting out, but now that they were free, he was leaving them behind to walk up to the class again. All Might wanted to mention it, but calling him out on that after Bakugo’s performance would seem silly. Instead, he looked over the damage to the building. In all honesty, the only damage he could blame them for was the stairwell, which had been part of their misdirection. He was fairly certain who he would give MVP to, but the grade itself was hard to write. As the rest of the participants made it to the group, he redoubled his smile. “EXCELLENT WORK CHILDREN!”

Everyone stopped talking to turn to their teacher, the area going silent. “NOW THIS WAS AN INTERESTING MATCH, FIRST THINGS FIRST! AKIRA, YOUR USE OF TACTICS AND THE USE OF YOUR QUIRK WAS EXCELLENT. HOWEVER, MUCH LIKE BAKUGO I WOULD SUGGEST LIMITING DAMAGE TO THE BUILDING! HAGAKURE, YOU NEED TO WORK ON SITUATIONAL AWARENESS! I KNOW YOU ARE USED TO REMAINING UNSEEN, BUT YOU MUST PLAN AROUND BEING FOUND!”

All Might turned to the screen, currently playing a highlight reel of the match, and nearly paused as he noticed something strange. A slight green glow when Akira laid his hand on Kirishima. He shook it off, looking back to the hardening student. “YOUNG KIRISHIMA, YOU DID WELL, BUT YOU MUST LEARN TO MAINTAIN YOUR HARDENING! IF A VILLAIN WITH A QUIRK SIMILAR TO AKIRA SHOWED UP HE MIGHT BE ABLE TO EXPLOIT YOUR WEAKNESS JUST AS EASILY!”

Finally he turned to Yaoyorazu, his smile still wide. “YOUNG YAOYORAZU, YOU DID VERY WELL! I UNDERSTAND IT WAS A LAST DITCH EFFORT, BUT PERHAPS THERE WAS A WAY FOR YOU TO DISPERSE THE CHAFF AROUND YOU? SOMETHING TO THINK ON!” The heiress nodded, accepting the criticism easily. All Might looked over his class. “SO, WHO DO YOU ALL THINK WAS THE MVP?”

He pointed to young Iida, who proceeded to start a long rant on why Akira was the MVP, but when All Might looked for him while he announced his agreement, Akira was leaned against a wall, half-asleep. He realized he might need to tell Hound-Dog about him sooner than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Mystikowl for editing Beatles has school so they'll look at it when they can. Until then Thank you so much for reading! : )


	15. Who Wants a Climbing Lesson?

Akira raised an eyebrow at the lack of Midoriya when the next battle trial began, and upon hearing he was in the nurse’s station, he felt a small spike of anger at the blonde boy angrily glaring at the screen. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to relearn how to steal hearts just to make that little dandelion know how much of an ass he was, but Akira could bite down on his anger. He was nothing if not patient, and Izuku was a good kid. Granted, a good kid he barely knew. But still, a good kid.

So Akira played his cards quietly, pretending to watch the matches as he focused instead on silently texting Giran. Without being able to actually check his phone, it took longer than it should have, but by the time the last exercise finished up, he had sent a text asking for some very specific items and a contact who could keep their mouth shut until fur started flying. So as All Might began a final lecture, Akira sat beside Jirou with a smirk. “So, does the fact that one of my first thoughts to deal with problems is to turn to shady contacts make me a bad hero in training?”

Jirou snorted, listening to All Might fall into an aside proffered by Mina, beginning a story from his past. She tuned it out, turning to her friend. “Well, I think it fits your whole aesthetic, right?”

Akira rolled his eyes, leaning back slightly while running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you have a point. I’m free tonight, wanna head into Mementos when we get out? We both could use more spending money.”

Jirou shrugged, looking over the class as All Might dismissed the class, telling them to head back to their homeroom after showering and changing. She looked at Akira for a moment. “Sure, Todoroki stealing my spotlight annoyed me. Meet at your apartment around four?”

Akira moved towards the locker room, forcing Jirou to keep up with his fast pace. “Sure, I’ll wait for you after I change.” 

Jirou smiled. “Are we gonna do something stupid on the way back to homeroom?”

Akira smirked, ruffling his friend’s hair. “Me, do something reckless and dumb? Never.”

Jirou laughed as she walked into her locker room, with Akira entering his right after. He ducked into a bathroom stall, then let fire coat him and replace his Skull outfit with his uniform. As he heard the first people walking in, he stripped free of his uniform and hung it on the hook of the door, moving to the showers quickly and grabbing a towel. He wrapped it around his waist, grabbing a bottle of soap from the community counter leading to the showers before starting one up. The towel got thrown onto a nearby hook, and Akira sped through a shower while everyone changed. With rushed motions, he was dressed before the class had finished socializing. 

Akira paused outside the dressing rooms, waiting for Jirou to finish changing. He pulled out his phone, looking at his next clue. While Futaba’s persona would be useful, the hint was disconcerting. He read the half that was uncoded again. “You mustn’t allow yourself to be chained to fate, to be ruled by your genes. Human beings can choose the kind of life they want to live.” And it ends. It felt incomplete, but he couldn’t remember ever hearing something like that. He tapped his finger against the screen as he scrolled down to Yusuke’s quote. “Courage doesn’t come from the edge of a sword...”

Akira still had no clue. He took a second to silently curse the world that let him forget tiny phrases that his adopted family decided were cool. He glared at his phone, trying to tease the truth out of nothing. He was distracted by a hand reaching up to his shoulder, tapping it twice. He turned and smiled as Jirou looked up at him. “Hey, so what are we doing?”

Akira smiled, rubbing some of his hair together in front of his face. “Well, I figured if I was trying to earn the title of cryptid of UA, then my student should too, right? How do you feel about climbing into our classroom from the windows?”

Jirou looked up to Akira for a moment, one eyebrow raised. “So you want us, two students who were recently admitted to the hero course, to risk our education climbing up the side of a building with no safety equipment. The only reason for which you have given, boiling down to: it fits our aesthetic?” 

Joker paused, running a hand through his hair. “Well, when you word it like that? Yes. Yes I am.”

Jirou smiled, her teeth peeking from under her lips. “Then of course. My parents are gonna get so pissed if the school calls about it, though.”

Akira smiled, walking out of the gym without care. “Who says the school will mind?”

Jirou’s smile widened a fraction, before sliding her bag over her shoulder and flicking back her hair. “Who said I would care, might be better for me to start my own brand now anyways. I don’t want their goody-two-shoes reputation following me around my whole life.”

Akira scoffed, looking at the path ahead of him. It was technically the long way to the training ground, but if you skipped having to enter the school... Regardless, he noticed the class from before was still talking under the tree, a few students beginning to slowly pack away their bags while the teacher made slow gestures with his hands. 

Akira smiled as he walked up, spinning a finger to tell Jirou to keep up. “Hey Snipe-sensei, excuse us.” He gestured his head to Jirou before jumping up the tree, reaching the top quickly before waiting patiently for his student to catch up. Snipe sensei was looking at him from below, with the entire class following suit, which prompted Akira to wave as Jirou rose up to the final branch. Akira nodded at her. “Not bad grasshopper, now for the fun part. We have about five stories to climb and neither of our quirks help. I’ve taught you the basics and the only part I’m worried about is this first jump, so watch carefully. He leaned forward, putting one hand on the branch before sliding forward, taking a single full step before launching himself over the gap between the school and the tree.

He felt cold stone impact his ribs and hissed at the familiar feeling, but ignored it and shuffled to the side, spinning himself around on the narrow edge while gesturing for Jirou to jump. “I’ve got you grasshopper, jump for it.”

Jirou rolled her eyes, before copying Akira, jumping across the gap. A gasp came from underneath them as Jirou’s jump fell short, but her arm grabbed the ledge that Akira stood on, letting her muscle her way up. Akira reached down, helping her up. “And that, young grasshopper, is why you don’t do this alone. Good jump.”

Jirou smirked up at him, looking down at the group below her before flashing a pair of devil horns at them. “Rock on guys!”

The class has varied reactions, from one disgusting groan to a few cries of support, but Jirou can’t focus on that, already watching Akira climb up the building with ease. She was nowhere near as fast as him, but she followed as quickly as she could. Akira would hop up almost a full story, before pausing for her to catch up. She could still hear his voice from the first time she had climbed with him in her head. She smirked as he repeated the line in her thoughts. “Let’s go, you gotta beat me one of these days.”

Jirou rolled her eyes, taking a risky jump that left her hanging from the windowsill directly below Akira. He looked down at her with a smirk. “Good hustle, you almost beat me.” He pushed the window beside him open before offering her his hand. “Welcome back to class.”

Jirou rolled her eyes, taking his hand and letting herself be hauled up to the window ledge. Akira pulled the window only to pause as it stayed steady. “Huh, that wasn’t what I planned.”

Jirou scoffed. “So what, now we climb back down and end up late. After Aizawa threatened to expel us, I don’t really want to give him an excuse.”

Akira dug around in his pocket. “Nah, when did Aizawa-sensei threaten to expel us?”

Jirou’s eyes widened for a second as Akira pulled out a small set of tools and started fiddling with the lock. “Really? You weren’t paying attention during the apprehension test? He threatened us with expulsion if we came in last.”

Akira rolled his eyes, a small click sounding from the window before he calmly pulled it open. “Could he be more overdramatic? Anyways, our class awaits.” He slid into the room while Jirou stared at him for a moment. There was a calm silence as Jirou tried to think of a good reason for Akira to be ignoring the teacher on his first day, before she scoffed and walked into the room.

She closed the window behind her, sitting down calmly. “Hey, you got any coffee on you?” Akira didn’t answer, pulling out a notebook and thermos. He passed the thermos to Jirou while he looked into his notebook, the classroom staying silent as they waited for their class to catch up.

***

Nedzu and Aizawa sat in the principal’s office, watching the security camera as Akira and Jirou climbed in through the window. Nedzu laughed softly, pouring a cup of tea. “It seems our resident troublemaker is teaching Jirou some of his tricks.”

Aizawa looked at the camera, thinking about the other classes. “Isn’t Snipe teaching his general education class below our room? We can ask him about it.” 

Nedzu nodded. “I already sent him an email. I believe your class is electing their representative today, correct? After they’re done, send Akira to my office. I wish to speak to him over his lunch. I believe I shall have him do my first assignment during his English class today.”

Aizawa nodded, moving towards the door. “Alright, tell me what Snipe says.” He opened the door, seeing All Might standing there, his form deflated and skeletal. Aizawa didn’t speak, simply nodding to the hero as he walked by him.

Nedzu smiled, switching his computer screen back to his email. “Ah, All Might. What can I do for you?”

All Might scratched the back of his head. “Yes, I wanted to suggest a student for therapy from Hound Dog. Akira Kurusu.”

Nedzu paused, his enhanced mind running through the possibilities as he took a sip of tea. “May I ask what prompted this? We’ve barely started the school year, after all.”

All Might nodded. “Yes, but he has shown some... worrying habits. For one, he jumped out a window this morning. Then when I confronted him about it, he said some rather disturbing things afterward.”

Nedzu nodded. “I will review the footage of that area. If I find something that needs to be addressed, I will treat it with the utmost caution and confidentiality. Unless something changes in the interest of young Kurusu’s confidentiality, I will not give any details.”

All Might nodded, rising to a standing position. “Of course, sir. I’m going to review the footage of the matches and grade them. Thank you for your time.”

All Might rose, bowing slightly. He turned easily and left the room, leaving Nedzu alone. The chimera opened the footage from the training ground, watching the exchange All Might mentioned quietly. His brow furrowed for a moment, and he wished he could understand humans better. The dark joke was... acceptable, but the conversation with Kirishima. It hinted at something, and despite his intelligence, he wasn’t human. He looked to his clock before nodding. He wrote an email to Hound Dog, instructing him to head to his office halfway through lunch. It appeared Kurusu might be a bit worse off than he thought.

***

Akira heard his classmates come back in, but aside from a few whispers around him, no one commented to him about his surprise appearance. He was currently grappling with Yusuke’s quote, manually starting to break the code as best he could. The two-letter word directly following the end was more than likely the word ‘It,’ which meant five more letters were known. He stared at it and guessed a couple more words before Aizawa walked in. He closed the notebook, looking up to his teacher who was staring at the room. 

“Alright class, I’m going to look over your performance during lunch, so until then, we’re going to do something important.” The class went utterly silent as they began worrying about whatever task Aizawa would give them next, everything from surprise rescue training to a pop quiz running through their heads. Aizawa quickly killed those thoughts. “You need to pick a class representative. I don’t care how, just don’t wake me up.”

Akira looked at the class collectively losing its shit before sighing and opening his notebook again. He resumed brute-forcing the code, only to stop as a finger tapped his shoulder a few minutes later. He turned his head, looking at Tokoyami, who was holding a scrap of paper. “Akira, we have decided a vote is the best way to choose our representative. Also, our young ward of light has returned.” Akira looked over the room, seeing Midoriya with some bandages on his arm smiling while talking to Iida.

He nodded, pulling a scrap of paper from his book and writing down the name Kyouko Jirou. He nodded, passing the note to Tokoyami. “Thanks, Birdman, I was working on some stuff.”

Tokoyami nodded, passing both notes forward as he looked at the notebook. “Ah, deciphering old text? What manner of work is this?”

Akira snorted, tapping his pencil on the book. “This is just stuff for my job. We get coded messages for certain security operations, but in order to verify the security, someone has to break them. Make sure they aren’t too easy. It’s dull, but I can do it at school, even if it’s not my forte.”

Tokoyami nodded, pausing over the code. “That word is out.” He pointed to the three-letter word towards the end,

Akira wrote it down, filling in the other letters this assumption led to. “Thanks, for your kindness; if it’s wrong, I won’t beat you with a lead pipe.”

Tokoyami nodded. “I accept your judgment like a sinner at the scales of Anubis.”

Akira smiled. “Yeah, Anubis is a pretty chill guy. Hits harder than a dump truck though.”

Tokoyami paused, looking at Akira. “What sort of dark,decrepit life did you lead, where you speak of gods as if you met them?”

Akira laughed, leaning back. “Who knows, maybe I dived into the depths of humanity’s soul and went on a massive one year journey into the realms of gods and horrors only to pop right back out. Or, I’m just weird.”

Tokoyami nodded as the class announced the results. “Midoriya will be the class representative, with Yaoyorozu being the vice rep.” Aizawa looked bored as he laid across the floor, his sleeping bag looking comfortable. “Everyone besides Akira Kurusu, head to early lunch. Akira paused, and remembered what All Might said. He cursed and turned to Jirou. “Future Akira’s problems have become mine. Avenge me, grasshopper.”

Jirou looked at him before shaking his head. “Nah, I’ll just bring some ice cream tonight. Good enough?”

Akira thought for a moment before nodding. “Deal. See you then.”

Jirou walked out while Akira packed up his bags and watched silently as his class filed out, leaving him alone with Aizawa. “What’s the matter Aizawa-sensei? Something wrong?”

Aizawa shook his head. “No, principal Nedzu wants to see you during lunch. Your classes with him will start during English class after lunch. Head there now.”

Akira nodded, shouldering his bag. “As you say Aizawa-Sensei. See you later.” With that said, Akira moved through the halls. He had to admit, the school was still breathtaking. So many things added to make it easier for a student with any quirk to get around easily. Akira resisted his base urge to fly through the halls again, instead smiling as he calmly walked the halls. Today was a good day.

The principal’s office was the same as last time Akira had walked in, with the only exception being the lunch tray sitting on the desk. He sat in front of it, looking around the empty room. “Hello?”

The door squeaked behind him as the soft sound of leather shoes approached from behind him. Nedzu’s voice spoke up. “Sorry young Kurusu,” Akira’s hands clenched the arm rest, which Nedzu took note of. “I had a quick meeting to take part of. Today, you begin your classes with me. First on the docket is a pacing test. I am going to cut all outside communication from this room and leave you with your lunch and the test. Don’t worry if you can’t finish it, the point is for me to have an in-depth knowledge of your current academic level.

With that said, Nedzu jumped on top of his desk, holding a stack of papers that was at least a foot tall. Akira stared at it, before raising an eyebrow. “So how long do I have?’

Nedzu smiled. “Forty-five minutes. After that, you have a meeting and the last hour will be a continuation of it in private.” With that, Nedzu turned and left the room. “The timer starts now. Begin when you’re ready.” A metal shield slammed shut after the chimera, and Akira groaned.

He pulled out his pen, grabbing the top sheet as he grabbed a sandwich from the tray. “Okay, Plus Ultra then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Beatles 211 and the Mystikowl for assistance and editing. THey are beautiful.


	16. The Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to wind up

Twenty minutes into Akira’s test, the window shields lowered, and he swore he could faintly hear an alarm blaring from outside the room, disrupting his thoughts on a question for morals. He glared at the door. “I know you’re recording this Nedzu, and you won’t break my concentration that easily.” He returned to his test with more determination than before. After an entirely too long amount of time, the alarm stopped, making Akira smirk. “Finally.” 

There was another long period of silence where Akira made it most of the way through the test before the metal shield in place of the door raised, and Nedzu walked in. Akira put down his pen, turning to the principal with a smile. “Guess I couldn’t finish it. Sorry, sensei.”

Nedzu’s eyes looked at Akira for a moment before nodding. “As I said, finishing the test was hardly expected. Did you not hear the alarm?”

Akira paused, looking up at the blank screens. “Yeah, wasn’t it just an alarm to disrupt my concentration. I figured I was supposed to work through it.”

Nedzu shook his head. “No, there was an issue earlier that necessitated a school evacuation. I apologize for not being clear of the parameters for the test. We’re calling school off for today, please go to your homeroom and return tomorrow at nine tomorrow for your meeting. Everyone else will be out, but your meeting is vitally important.”

Akira nodded. “It’s cool, I assume you’ll grade this when things calm down sensei?”

Nedzu nodded, barely looking at Akira as he walked to his desk. “Of course, you’re free to go Mr. Kurusu. Enjoy your day.” Akira’s expression fell, his hands clenching slightly, which Nedzu took note of again. Akira bowed curtly and walked out. Nedzu began opening files on the school walls, trying to piece together whoever destroyed the wall through the swarm of press surrounding it. He paused for a moment, before making a short note on a slip of paper. “Now why would Mr. Kurusu dislike his last name. Especially if it’s fake? Questions on top of questions...” He pressed a button to start a kettle of tea under his desk and turned to the cameras. He would have to keep an eye out starting tomorrow.

***

Akira made his way back to class with a relentless headache, the test having fried his mental circuits. He pulled his second thermos out of his bag, using the cap as a cup as he poured a glass of coffee. He let the taste of Sojiro’s masterpiece focus his mind as he walked through the halls, which lay abandoned. He felt like the final survivor in a horror movie. He remembered watching Patch-saw with Haru. An evening of quiet conversation underlaid with the screams of the damned. He laughed. “So it’s a lot like school then.”

He moved through the ghost of his school’s hallways until he reached the large doors to Class 1-A, pausing to finish and put away his coffee. With a deep breath, he walked through the door and sent a cocky grin to the class. “So, what’d I miss?”

The class looked at him, a few snorting as he made his way to the desk. He looked over to Midoriya, now sitting at his desk again with bandages over one arm and smiling. Akira pointed to him. “There’s my guy. When you got sent to the nurse, I nearly had a heart attack, Midoriya. Your mom would kill me if you stayed late because of an injury.”

Midoriya smiled. “I’m fine Akira-kun. And I won too!”

Akira smiled, pushing out a little lie to make him feel better. “So I saw. Good work there, making me proud of my little pep-talk.”

A brown-haired girl with rosy cheeks looked between them. “Wait, you know Kurusu, Deku?”

Akira had to struggle in biting back his angry retort, but it became easier for him when he saw Midoriya’s easy smile. “Yeah, Akira is my neighbor. He comes by for dinner every now and again.”

Akira smiled as he stepped up. “And call me Akira, I hate being called Kurusu.” He then turned to Midoriya, smirking at him. “And I join you for dinner, really? I seem to remember your mom assaulting me with a door and then dragging me into your house because I wasn’t eating enough real food.”

Izauku blushed, smiling up at Akira. “Yeah, but then you brought her that curry. She’s been complaining that you haven’t brought her some more.”

Akira smiled easily, walking over to Izuku’s desk. “What can I say, my former boss was a great man, I strive for the day I can be even half the man he was.”

The class was silenced as Eraserhead walked into the room. “Okay everyone, I’ve been given a modified schedule for today, and by modified, I mean removed. You’re all off for the rest of today. There will be a packet of work in your school emails, which are posted in the main hall of the school. If you have any questions or comments for me, I’ll have five minutes after I talk to Akira. Everyone else dismissed.”

Akira winced as he waited for the class to leave as he leaned against the door. His phone found its way to his hands, waving to Jirou as he started to break Yusuke’s code with brute force. He struggled through another letter before the classroom cleared out, leaving him alone with Aizawa. Akira pocketed his phone, crossing his arms. “So, what’s up teach?”

Aizawa tapped at his table, looking over a small file on his desk. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips “You climbed down the building and up it coming from here to battle training.”

Akira nodded, already having a prepared counter-argument. “Yes, but the handbook states that we ‘should take the fastest route to and from classes whenever possible in case of a possible emergency’. It mentioned ‘one may use their quirk to use unconventional paths as long as they are confident in their abilities if they are enrolled in the hero course.’”

Aizawa didn’t say much, flipping a page of his file over. “Correct. You and Jirou should be fine, just don’t cry to me if you fall. Next, Jirou wanted an ax with her costume. We’ve withheld it until we can verify the credentials of her former teacher, so imagine my surprise when I found out that you’re the one training her.”

Akira’s mind snapped into action, possibilities running through his head at a mile a minute. Would they link him to Berserker? What could he say to distract him? He silenced those thoughts, smirking as he nodded. “Yeah, I picked up a few things from my sister when she was learning from her sensei, and in the end, I ended up getting pretty good at it.”

Aizawa nodded, writing down a small note. “Interesting. Can you get your sister here? I would like to speak to her and confirm her abilities.”

Akira flinched, his thoughts struggling to a halt as a face seared itself into his mind. Fluffy hair, an innocent smile, all while an ax shined black with the dark goo leftover of shadows hung calmly over her shoulder. He recovered as quickly as he could, shaking his head. “That won’t be possible. She’s... no longer available.”

Aizawa nodded, making a few more notes. “Fine, I’ll sign off on it provisionally. She’ll get a training class on it to make sure she won’t cut off her own leg, and if she passes that, I’ll fully sign off on it. You’re dismissed.”

Akira nodded, turning around and leaving without another word. Aizawa waited until his student was well and truly clear before pulling his phone out and dialing a number quickly. There was silence for a moment before a muffled voice came from the other end. “Hey, it’s me. I got something. He had a sister, one who fought with an ax. Search our records for any villains or vigilantes who used one within the last fifteen years, and make sure to include ones that may have… died in action.”

There was another pause before Eraserhead nodded, looking over the room. “Yeah, Mr. Problem Child seems to have some issues, but we need to get a handle on what he’s been through.” There was another pause before Aizawa sighed. “No, I don’t think he’s doing anything to help villains, just that he’s playing a very dangerous game.” Silence reigned again before Aizawa grunted, hanging up the phone before he stared down at his paperwork. “Who the Hell are you, Akira Kurusu?”

***

Akira smiled as he held out a closed fist to Jirou. “Hey grasshopper, ready for our training today?”

Jirou bumped his fist, smiling wide. “Of course, you said we were going to learn something new today, and I’m ready as hell for it.”

Akira smiled as they made their way up a fire escape, the clanging of metal echoing as they made their way to a roof near UA. “Yeah, I’m going to dust off a friend of mine’s mask, so be ready to see a whole new style. I’m going to teach you a few fun axe techniques. They reached the roof easily, both beginning to stretch as Jirou patted her backpack. “By the way, what was up with Aizawa holding you, you good?”

Akira nodded, his smile never faltering. “Yeah, just a few questions since we slipped that I was training you. It’s all good though.” Akira slapped his face to wake himself up, before he smirked at Jirou. “Race you to the subway.” And with that he ran off, Jirou muttering darkly about him being a cheater as she shot after him.

Akira smiled all the way to the subway, jumping down the stairs three at a time. He skidded to a stop with a slow exhale. “And we’re here. You good Jirou?”

The punk girl ran up, huffing air, and raised her middle finger as she caught her breath. Akira snickered, pulling out his phone. With a simple tap, the old station disappeared, being replaced with the first floor of Mementos. 

The duo looked over the corrupted area, Akira turning his back as Jiro went to her stashed bag and grabbed her gear, quickly changing and slinging her axe over her shoulder. “All ready to go sensei, what are we doing today?”

Akira smiled, sliding his knife free from its sheath. “I’m going to teach you a technique that can end a fight instantly. You know how I rip off a shadows mask to get the drop on it?” Jirou nodded, looking at him through her motorcycle helmet. Akira smiled, flashing teeth. “It’s like that, only much more enjoyable. When we start, distract the monster. I’ll show you once, then we’ll practice up here.” With that he began walking down the platform, Jirou following behind. 

It didn’t take long for a shadow to stumble across his way, and when Joker saw it he smiled. An incubus, and one that was staring at Jirou as she readied her ax. Before either had a chance to move, he dived forward, grabbing the shadow’s legs. There was a strangled scream as both the flying shadow and Joker flew to the floor, landing with a pair of heavy thuds. Joker moved quickly, pulling the leg down as the shadow fought for a path up. His knife hand free, he jammed it down into the meat of the shadows shoulder, dragging the shadow farther back as he stood up. With the creature writhing under him, he let out a sadistic chuckle, pulling his pistol from his coat and putting a single round in the back of its head. He turned to Jirou, a smile still haunting his face. “And that is how you perform a full ambush. Let's go practice.”

*** 

Nedzu stared up at Aizawa, sipping on his tea nonchalantly as he read over the report on Akira’s further slips in class. His knowledge of his personal student’s past was spotty at best, or if he was being honest, downright abysmal. So any insight he could glean would be wonderful. He turned a page slowly, absorbing everything he could. He flipped between the two pages several times, committing everything to long-term memory before nodding once. “Of course. He had a family before, one I would assume he was very close to. From the fact his sister taught him how to use an ax, I would hazard a guess they fought frequently. He is of Japanese build, and any area, no matter how poor, would report a series of ax wounds.”

Nedzu nodded, turning to his computer. “And what of your read, Aizawa? Do you believe what the young man said?”

Aizawa grunted, barely looking at his boss as he began typing on his phone. “He seemed to be telling the truth. At least mostly.” Aizawa finished the text, sending it off without a spoken word. “Though it begs the question, if he’s trained with a weapon, why isn’t he using one now?”

Nedzu paused, looking over the various files and papers spread around him. He saw his notes from the battle trial, and slowly raised his eyebrows. “Adding in his battle trial, it does lead me down some interesting lines of thought.”

Nedzu turned back to his screen, which was quickly broadcasting to the larger screen behind him, allowing Aizawa to see as well. “Here, you can see the first time he brought down young Kirishima. See this moment here. He takes a moment to advise his opponent.” Nedzu moved his mouse, opening another tab as his keyboard rapidly clicked. “And here you see the training session of a gang in a lawless area of Siberia.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow as the teens in the video fought. They were brutal and fast, but every time one was brought low their opponent would calmly explain their mistakes, helping them back up to try again. Nedzu spoke again. “An interesting tidbit about these gangs is they are primarily orphans and runaways. Those who have no one else. In interviews, they claim they are family.” Nedzu stopped the video, another soon opening of a similar group of children in Mexico, in the Alaskan Tundra, anywhere where the law was loose and fast, these gangs appeared. Nedzu stared at the screen for a moment. “Now imagine Aizawa, one of those gangs hiding under our very nose, fighting what they saw as evil out of both necessity and desire, for two hundred years.”

Aizawa’s eyes widened. “Two hundred years? They would be found out. I admit he has a taste for ancient history, but seriously?”

Nedzu clicked his tongue once, opening a plethora of windows. “Do not doubt me Eraserhead. Do you know how many mentions have made it to the modern days of the group he claims to be a part of?” Nedzu grabbed his glass, taking another sip of tea. “Ignoring the information I presume he sold off recently, I have found five separate articles. Two of which were written by one Ichiko Ohya, the founder of the modern Murakami News. They relate about the theft of hearts, and refer to their source as the local fool. An obvious pseudonym. But, they do hint that the informant is a member of a local school where the first case took place.”

The screen shifted, four articles popping up as one grew. “That school, by the way, was known as Shujin academy. Shut down within two years for the abusive level of disregard the administration had for the students. A few teachers made it out, but I digress. The more interesting fact I managed to find was in the old paper records of the school.” Nedzu moved a file from behind his desk, a full folder of papers bound together.

He opened them slowly, letting Aizawa flick through them for a second. At the sound of his teacher cursing, he spoke. “Yes, they are all complaining of the criminal student Akira Kurusu being allowed admittance into their school. Then shortly after, the first phantom thief heist was sprung. Targeting the teacher with the most complaints. Revealing him to be a rapist and an abuser.”

Aizawa stared at the folder for a moment before he let out a sigh, reaching for his thermos of coffee on Nedzu’s desk. “So our options are either that the Phantom Thieves survived the rise of quirks and are a band of outcast vigilantes who fight because they aren’t given a choice, or my problem child is a vigilante with direct ties to an obscure history over two hundred years old… great.”

Nedzu shook his head. “No, I believe he is probably an orphan found by what remains of the group. Possibly a runaway whose parents abused him. He got an identity illegally, though a very good one. I didn’t have to doctor anything to get him admitted. This means he has the means to a fair amount of money, but with his chosen living area, as well as the observations you have made, I believe he is hiding that. Though the reason why escapes me.”

Aizawa grunted, still looking at one of the gangs on screen. “Could it be theft?”

Neczu shrugged. “Possibly, but these identities aren’t cheap. I believe stealing enough to fund that and his life would have been noticed. Besides, he has revealed his thieving persona. This Joker figure. Which coincidentally matches one of the other articles I was able to find of the thieves.” His paws blurred again, all the articles disappearing besides a single video.

A single person, their body hidden and face distorted. The subtext claimed they were a member of the phantom thieves. Through the distortions one could make out very little besides the short brown hair. When she spoke, it was measured and reserved, an almost regal air escaping with each word. “Of course we had several rules. We could only steal from people we unanimously agreed deserved it, we prioritised our own safety whenever possible, and we used codenames.” There was silence for a moment before she giggled. “Oh, he let that slip once? Yes, we all had codenames. I was Queen, then there was Skull, Mona, Panther, Nior, Oracle, Crow, and then... him. Our glorious leader.” There was a strangled laugh, one that teetered on the edge of tears. “He was our Joker. The ace in the hole.” The was a long pause as the woman took several deep breaths. “Sorry, I think I’m done for the day. If you ever have more questions just ask. The world deserves the truth.”

The video cut out, advertising a follow up interview next week, before it faded into nothing. Nedzu turned to Aizawa, his screen fading to black. “I believe whoever holds the title of Joker leads the organisation, as well as taking the name of the original holder. Since Akira Kurusu seemingly died of injuries during the original heists of the Phantom Thieves, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Aizawa nodded once, looking over the letters. “I think they might be similar in more than that too.” He flipped a letter over. “This one is from a few months after Akira joined Shujin. Apparently the teacher was seeking advice from the board. Kurusu was a model student, but they saw him do many strange things. Jumping the walls of the school, bringing strange but appropriate drinks to class, and at one point threatening to pillage someone for refusing to move.”

Nedzu smiled. “Yes, I noticed that. Which begs the question. Are we dealing with a former leader of a now defunct group, or something much more interesting? Because we might be dealing with a descendent reclaiming what’s his. Especially with the vaults. Who knows what marvelous plans are going through that boy’s head right now?”

*** 

Akira sneezed as he flew over Jirou’s shoulder, throwing him off long enough for the stick in her hand to make solid contact with his chest before he could recover. Jirou froze even as Akira smiled. “THAT’S THE TICKET JIROU! LANDING GOOD HITS!” He jumped up wrapping his friend in a hug. “I’m so proud of you grasshopper, I thought it would take another week or two before you would hit me that cleanly!”

Jirou smiled, slinging her ax to the side before planting it down in the ground. She lowered her hand. “Yeah well, I am pretty great. Most people just think I’m some little celebrity kid.”

Akira scoffed, taking her hand and standing up tall. “Well I used to train with the daughter of a CEO, and she’s the one who taught me how to use that ax. So I can’t judge. Besides, I don’t know any modern celebrities.” Akira flipped out his phone. “And times up for today, let’s call it a day and we’ll head home.”

Jirou nodded, stripping off her helmet and letting go of a deep breath. “Alright sensei, so in reality how well did I do today?”

Akira turned around as Jirou changed, rubbing two hairs that had fallen in front of his face. “Well, I got distracted by a sneeze when you hit, but you rushed to get me in that time. You’re learning to take advantage of anything, so you’re doing pretty dang well. Plus, you’re smiling more, which means you’re learning enough to enjoy our spars and lessons.”

Jirou threw on a fresh band tee, tapping Akira on the shoulder to let him know she’s ready to go. Akira nodded, tapping a button on his phone, allowing reality to reestablish itself. As soon as their feet were back on solid ground, Akira’s phone went crazy, text after text being received all at once. Jirou raised an eyebrow as Akira’s face hardened. He looked to her, thinking for a moment. “Go home, we’re going to have a big day tomorrow.” He ran off, leaving Jirou alone with her thoughts.

She turned to the squat building beside her, jumping up to a low hanging rafter and beginning the normal circuit home. “Could have at least walked me to the station. The hell spooked him so bad he had to run off like that?”

She nearly stumbled and fell as a voice answered her, a vision of a cheshire grin imprinted in her mind. “Why, he saw our first step to true power. Soon we shall meet in earnest, and you will face yourself. I can’t wait to see our beautiful art.” 

Jirou stopped on a roof, looking around wildly. “Fucking hell! What is that voice.” She ran a hand through her hair, before shaking her head. “I bet it’s something from Mementos. After school. I’ll ask him after school tomorrow.” She resumed her run, disappearing into the city skyline.

***

Akira cursed as he slammed the call button repeatedly on his phone, only stopping when he heard the first ring. He didn’t have time to waste as he rushed to his apartment, trying desperately to get all his plans in order. Shigaraki had finally told him when the plan was shooting off, and he would have to improvise a lot to get what he needed in place. The phone rang once. “Eraserhead, who is this and how did you get my number?”

Akira jumped over a small gap in between buildings, rushing air keeping him from shouting. “Eraserhead, this is Joker, grab Miruko and meet me at Dagobah in ten minutes. I have very VERY important info for you. This is some All Might level crap.”

There was a grunt that was followed by a few muted thumps. “I’ll be there in five. Miruko will show up whenever.” Akira jumped again, rolling as he hit the ground. Slid into a fire escape, clambering down it like a monkey while he held his phone with his neck.

He landed between three people. He looked from the cowering man to the two large people in the shadows. He sighed. “Make my eta a bit later, I stumbled on something else. Fifteen at most.” He looked over the people in front of him, smiling wide. “So, what do we have here? A mugging?”

He looked around, letting out a sigh. “Look, I don’t have time for anything too drawn out.” In a flash of blue flame, a knife appeared in his hands, letting him go into his normal fighting stance. “If everyone here feels like leaving, I’m fine with calling it a night.” For a brief second he thought they would listen, before one of the large men charged him. He sighed as the blunt edge of his knife met the back of the goon’s skull. He was in such a hurry he didn’t even smile as he took the thug’s wallet with his free hand.

Akira stumbled when he finally reached the loose sand of the beach. A pair of new wallets in his pockets, courtesy of both Mona’s training and two extremely stupid muggers slapping together. He knelt down and caught his breath. He reached up, lifting his mask slightly now that it was no longer bound to his face, only to hear a voice in his ear. “Not now little thief, your guests are here.”

Akira paused, looking over the beach to see Eraserhead and Miruko looking at him oddly. He kept his kneeling position, but nodded. “Thank you Arsene, your help is always welcome.” There was a scoff of laughter before Akira could stand, but he simply smiled in response. “Sorry everyone, found out about all this less than twenty minutes ago.” 

Eraserhead raised an eyebrow, looking around. “With what I heard on the phone I thought I was going to have a horde of villains behind you.”

Akira smirked, letting a small chuckle free itself. “Like a swarm of wannabes could keep up? No. As I said though, important info. Tomorrow, UA is going to be attacked. I wanted to tell you and ask Miruko to help with something called the USJ tomorrow.”

Eraserhead froze, looking at Joker with narrowed eyes. “And how do you know about the USJ?”

Joker’s smirk grew, and the shadows under his mask grew. “Because that’s where they’re attacking. If you cancel it, they’ll know. I think they have someone inside the school. But the important thing is the fact that their Second will be there in person. I don’t have much on most of them, but the leader has a disintegration quirk. Touches something and it collapses into dust. I think he needs all five fingers on it to work.”

Miruko snorted. “So what? You get the info and rush us here to follow your plan on how to stop it. How can we vene trust the info you have?”

Joker paused, before letting out a sigh. “Arsene, will what I’m thinking work?”

The three stood silently before a voice split the night. “It might win you enough points for them to believe you, I believe it should suffice little thief.”

Joker nodded, and raised one hand in surrender before the other one went to his mask. Both heroes readied themselves and Akira peeled the mask upwards, his bond with Arsene allowing the skin formerly melded with it to move freely as he raised the mask to his brow. He stared at them, unmasked, his smile gone. “This is me, maskless and defenceless. I am offering this info of my own free will and with no strings attached. Just please, don’t let those kids be hurt because of my illegal choices.”

Eraserhead froze, Miruko following his actions quickly. Akira lowered himself to one knee. “I am Joker, leader of the thieves guild, founder of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. On the graves of my confidants, I swear to you my information is whole without anything hidden besides what would endanger me.” 

Miruko coughed. “Er, yeah kid. I’ll do my best to be there. Hey Eraser, think I could join UA for tomorrow?” 

Eraserhead stared at the kneeling boy, before sighing once. “This is such a headache. I’ll call Nedzu, we’ll get it all worked out. Joker, what did this info cost?”

Joker re-affixed his mask. “Simple, I’m sending in some backup, be sure to let him leave, and we’re square. After all, a potential thief is working in your hallowed halls, maybe even two.” He stood easily, looking over the two heroes. “Know this too, I am fairly certain there are two traitors in your school, but I know one of them is a triple agent. Keep your secrets close, and your friends closer.”

Joker flew from the beach, pulling free from the heroes as he sent a few more texts. Misdirection was the key to any good heist, and this would be no different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you know, my editors are beautiful people. Show them much love


	17. The Second Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the USJ where the games are deadly and the attractions even worse.

Akira walked into his classroom with a stumble, his steps stuttering as he clung to his second glass of death coffee in as many days. He took a long sip, trying to force his body to awaken. From the mild tremor that ran down his body, any onlooker could tell it was only slightly effective. He looked over the mostly empty classroom of 1-A, raising an eyebrow as Iida read through a textbook before quietly going to his seat. He put his slightly bulging bag underneath his chair, holding his head as he leaned what looked like an umbrella against his desk. With a sigh, he dropped his head into his desk, letting time flow over him like a river.

There was a loud thump from the front of the classroom, prompting Akira to look up as Aizawa looked over them. “It only took you five seconds to quiet down. Better, but still not good. Your morning will be spent preparing for today’s lesson. In thirty minutes, a bus will arrive to take you to rescue training. Before then, decide if you’re going to wear your costumes or not, and get to the bus. Homeroom dismissed.”

Akira grunted, throwing his bag over his shoulder before grabbing his umbrella. He looked at Jirou, who was shooting him a questioning look. He smirked at her, winking before walking out of the room as Iida began directing the class once more. Akira raised an eyebrow at that, wasn’t Izuku the class rep? He shook it off as he walked down to the bathroom, letting out a sigh as he quickly changed clothes. A brief flash of fire after his new outfit was on showed off his thieving outfit, and he smirked. He approached the bus while pulling a carrot out of his bag. He couldn’t grow more of them. Not anymore, but today required it. He chewed on it quickly, feeling his body instantly revitalize itself. He smiled wide as he finished it off, looking up for a moment. “Thanks for the carrot, senpai.”

A voice spoke over his shoulder. “One of your schoolmates give you a carrot or something, runt?”

Akira jumped forward, his previous exhaustion forgotten as he grabbed the grip of his umbrella, only to pause. In front of him, an amused grin on her face, was Miruko. He slowly lowered the umbrella, raising an eyebrow. “Something like that. What’s one of the top ten doing here, aren’t you normally on patrol or something today?”

He had to hold back a grin at her presence, glad she had truly listened to him. She crossed her arms and let out a puff of annoyance. “What, are kids too good to be starstruck by a hero now? Anyways, I’m here to help today, runt, and maybe polish up my rescue skills.”

Akira raised an eyebrow at that, but nodded. “Okay, a top ten hero is showing up to help teach whatever assignment Aizawa picked out. Yep, I need more coffee.” He reached into the side pocket of his bag, grabbing the coffee quickly as he returned to his spot against the wall. “Today’s going to suck.” 

Akira had to restrain a smirk when Miruko did a quick double-take. He pulled out his phone, letting a feral grin loose as he noticed just how close he was to breaking Yusuke’s code. He had a few letters left, but he had another five minutes to throw at it. Time passed quickly before his class arrived. There was a brief moment where Tenya tried to arrange a seating order, which quickly died as the bus pulled in and revealed itself to be of non-traditional style, much like the teaching style of the school. Akira walked past the distraught Iida as all of the boy’s plans fell apart and began to move to the back of the bus, only for a hand to grab the back of his shirt. Before he could complain, he was tossed into a seat in the middle of the bus, Jirou flopping down beside him. Akira raised an eyebrow at her as she smirked. “What? You’ve been playing with that code all week, it’s time to actually socialize.”

Akira rolled his eyes but leaned back as Jirou smirked at him. “Fine, I’ll put off my eternal crusade for one bus ride, but I reserve the right to ignore anyone who annoys me.”

Jirou smirked at him, leaning back in her chair. “Like you wouldn’t do that anyway.” Jirou pulled out her phone, an earjack plugging into the port at the bottom of her phone. Akira took another pull from his coffee before receiving a nudge on his shoulder from Jirou.

He looked down at his shorter friend and raised an eyebrow at the empty travel mug in her hands. The bus filled up fully, a few students staring at the exchange before Akira sighed. “You should really just meet at my place so you can get it fresh.” He poured Jirou a healthy glass and looked over the rest of the bus. He raised an eyebrow at the many looks he was receiving before letting out a chuckle. “I don’t have enough for all of you. Get your own coffee.”

A few of his fellow students turned back to their friends, but the frog-girl leaned forward, peeking over a chair to make eye contact with Akira “Akira, I tend to speak rather bluntly. You don’t seem to be investing much in being a hero. Why is that?”

Akira looked up to the black-haired girl, a smirk playing across his lips. “Well, it’s not so much that I’m not invested, it’s just that so far this class has been...” Akira thought back to his last year. Fighting every day. He thought of the feeling of inky black blood running over his gloves without leaving a stain. He thought of the pure joy he felt as an evil man lay prostrate before him, begging to keep his unholy sins alone. He let the smirk grow. “Remedial.”

The bus went quiet for a second as Akira let the leash off his inner rage, if only for a second. The bus stood still and stared at him, the pros up front seeming to ignore the teenage drama happening behind them. Akira’s fun was interrupted by Jirou smacking the back of his head, a giggle escaping her lips. “Cool your jets, sensei. No need to go all Mementos on them.”

Akira laughed, the sudden sound causing a couple of members on the bus to jump as he leaned back. He flicked a journal out from the inside pocket of his jacket, spinning a pen around his index finger at the same time. “Alright then. Anyways, I’m awful at names, so mind repeating it for me, frogger? I figure I’d get slapped if I just shouted out whatever dumb nickname I thought of on you.”

The frog girl raised her index finger to her mouth, tilting her head slightly. “Your weird, kero. I’m Tsuyu Asui, call me Tsu.”

Akira nodded. “Fair enough, call me Akira.” He raised his voice a bit louder. “Actually, everyone call me Akira. I don’t respond to my family name.”

The bus seemed to collectively nod as Tsu moved her focus to Midoriya, leaving Akira free to jot down a few notes on his classmates, making the rest of the bus ride pass in relative peace. When the bus ride finally ended, Akira felt the hair on his arms rise, and he had to actively resist the urge to call forth his trusty club in response. He knew what was happening, he just needed to get through it. 

As they walked in, Jirou tapped him on the shoulder, a smile gracing her lips. “So when can you spill what’s bugging you?”

Akira stifled the flinch at the surprise physical contact he received. He looked over at the class, which was mobbing around the astronaut that just walked in. He knelt down. “We’re about to be attacked; there’s a reason Miruko is here. Just stay cool and we’ll be fine.” He stood up as a shocked shout broke through the class. 

A grimace grew on Akira’s face as a group of villains began to walk in, led by Crusty-face himself. Akira smiled even as the villain began ranting. Aizawa readied his capture weapon even as Kurogiri stepped forward. Akira readied himself as the villain spoke properly. “But before we attack anyone, we have a last-minute deal to offer.” The heroes paused, even as the warp gate formed under Akira, Aizawa too busy glaring at a slowly approaching thug to focus on Kurogiri. The mist-man seemed to chuckle. “Or rather, one to honor. Farewell, Akira Kurusu.”

Akira fell, finding himself in an abandoned alley already surrounded by nameless thugs. His grin stretched his face wide, even as the knowledge he was alone and unfilmed filled him with reckless bravado. Megido fire appeared in a flash of blue flames as the barrel lowered in on a smirking villain. The expression didn’t have time to change as a gout of flaming buckshot downed the fool. Akira chuckled as he looked to the one beside him. “Well then, fancy meeting you here.”

The fight lasted twenty seconds. Whichever thugs were still conscious running about leaving him for Crow. He couldn’t stop his chuckle even as he switched over to Joker, if only for a moment. He patched up the villains he shot, knocking them unconscious directly afterward. Then he swapped over to Noir, letting the musketeer outfit coat him, before dismissing it. As the flames melted down his body, his change of clothes earlier became clear. A white tailcoat, golden tassel hanging over each shoulder. The crow mask he had put on his face when he changed in the bathroom had been gilded in Silver, and the white suit pants fit him perfectly. He rested a hand on the calvary saber at his hip and smiled wide, an unhinged look entering his eyes. “Time to get to work.”

He turned swiftly on his heels, the infernal shotgun in his hands disappearing in a flash of fire as he began to run across the area. He needed to make an appearance in at least one group of villains, and he had just the plan to do it.

The next zone over was the Landslide area, which approached rapidly as Crow slid down a faux powerline using the saber he had strapped to his hip. He landed easily as the villains surrounded the students, their evil smirks powering his own. “Well, gentlemen, a pleasure to see you here.”

Ren Amamiya stared over the villains. One was holding Yaomomo up, a metal sliver sliding from the thug’s elbow until it tickled her neck. One of the thugs looked to Akira. His grin was feral and demented, seeming to split his face. “Hey, it’s Crow! You already finished with the toy you asked for?”

Ren flicked his saber, spinning it slowly as he walked up. As he walked up, he beat down the memories using this specific weapon brought forth. A smiling liar, honeyed words hiding blood-stained sins. So he smirked and tried to steal the demented look from his once friend’s long-dead eyes. “Hah, that little fool? Compared to a veteran in our little family, he was nothing.” He looked across the gap the villains were staring at and swallowed. Jirou was there. His little apprentice was there, and she was crying. But that wasn’t what froze him. It was the small amount of blue fire around her legs.

One of the thugs walked up. “You’re just in time, Crow. We have the two best hostages right here. We capture the rich girl and the whelp from that big band, and we can sell them back for our retirements.”

The blue flames sparked slightly, and Ren smirked. He knew just how to both secure a statement claiming his loyalty and get out of this clean. He laughed, an unhinged and broken thing escaping his lips. “Really?! I try to play with those of strong morals, and all I get are a traitor and a pair of baby celebrities? What? Did their parents pay their way into these hallowed halls?”

The Blue flames caught, and Ren smiled wide. “Oh, maybe one of them has worth.” He spread his arms as the thugs stiffened in place, The flames seemed to consume Jirou, even as Ren spread his arms wide, and smiled wide. “That’s it girl, see who you really are. Then, we’ll see what you are. Are you a demon like me, or a blood-stained sinner like our original predecessor?”

The flames exploded out, and the Jirou that had been shaking in her boots was gone. She was kneeling, her arms held limply by her side, even as she raised her head. Her purple hair was hidden by a cloak of darkest night, the hood raised up high. Her face was shrouded by a veil, a spiderweb of black and white. The only solid object was the thin band around her eyes, eight dots glowing in soft yellow light. Ren smiled as she rose from her kneel, standing tall as blood dripped from her arm. She stared at the thug holding Yaomomo, pure hatred seeming to wave off of her. “You dare to judge us? Momo, who’s never had the chance to do everything and is burning every bridge just to be here? Me, who had everyone tell me exactly what my path was in life just because of my parents, who I never even see?”

Ren smiled as the thug stepped back, watching in interest as he held tighter on to his fellow hero-in-training. Jirou’s outfit shifted in the wind, the hero outfit melted away. Replaced instead with a leather jacket made to look like a suit. A white dress shirt lay under it, the tie sloppily done and halfway to untied. Black jeans graced her legs, a spiderweb design snaking up her right side, and a pair of scuffed dress shoes clacked as she walked forward. A second voice came from nowhere, causing everyone but Ren and Jirou to look for the source. “There it is dear. That drive that proves one can stand against fate itself. Whether we fall or not, only power can allow us even a chance to stand against the cruel words of fools and villains. So what do you say, shall we burn away the weakness we held onto?

Ren saw it, the flash of pure pain that a persona gives when taking root in your mind, and Jirou stumbled forward, falling onto all fours. But her head was still held high as the voice spoke again. “Before you even have a chance to be known, your name is ruined by people you barely know, and the world expects you to thank them for it. So what say we rise up against it? Together we could make art that would blow away every person who thought to label you against your will.”

Jirou nodded. Reaching up to her veil, arching her back as blood seeped from a gash on her arm, only for it to be joined as blood began leaking from her mask, the voice called out, giggling as it spoke. “Wonderful! Together let us raise our fists against this corrupt society. Let us show the world we are our own people, and none shall stop us. Not man, not woman, not devil, and not the gods themselves.” 

Jirou screamed, blood spurting from her face as the veil was ripped from her skin, her audience silent as she finally ripped the mask free, tossing it to burn away. There was a split second of silence, before the wind exploded outwards, knocking the thugs back as Yaomomo fell to the ground. Behind Jirou, a figure made of fire and death arose. She was massive, arising from the landslide zone like an angry god, her simple toga coated in small spiders that skittered about her body hidden by a veritable shroud of webs and bugs. In her hands, she held a rolled-up tapestry. Her face was uncovered, and through the eight small eyes and the large fangs, Ren could see her smile. She twitched, sending a few spiders flying. “Finally dear, our time is here! Say it with me. I am thou, thou art I. Our contract has begun in a memorable way, and we shall carve our names into the unwilling heart of history!”

Jirou stood tall, her wounds faded and healing even as she let a feral grin towards the thugs as they rose. “Of course!” She held out her hand, a long scythe burning itself into existence. She spun it around, the collection of strings running down the hilt letting out a deafening power chord. “ARACHNE, LET’S ROCK!”

The thugs had a second to think before an ill-wind blew. Red skulls and grey fog rolled past the villains, knocking them into a stupor before they collapsed, leaving only Ren standing. He chuckled, clapping as he walked forward. Jirou tried to rise, only to shake in place. Ren smiled, making his way to her with a calm stride, kneeling a few feet away. “Well little grasshopper. Let me formally welcome you to the thieves guild.” Jirou froze, staring at the unfamiliar mask. Ren winked at her, fixing one of his gloves before ducking his hand into his pockets. “Welcome to the spy games kid. I have a gift and a message for you. First up, Akira is unconscious but hidden. It was part of the plan. He said to hold fast, cover whoever you’re with. We’ll deal with this.” Ren pulled out a small travel cup of coffee. “You’re going to be tired. Have a pick me up. I’m about to drop this villain schtick and wreck some face. Keep yourself safe.” He glanced over to Yaomomo. “Well, keep yourself and the amazing swimsuit over there safe.”

Jirou showed him a soft smile, taking a sip of coffee before her eyes bulged. Ren smiled. “Yeah, familiar coffee huh? Boss sure knows how to make it.” Ren stood, before turning to the courtyard and running, his hair whipped by the wind. As soon as he jumped from the landside zone he pulled off the crow mask, letting the black domino mask unfurl beneath it. Fire coated his body as he ran, leaving Ren Amimiya behind. With a joyous shout, The Berserker jumped into the courtyard. And Hell followed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my beautiful editors. Beatles211 and the MystikOwl


	18. Winding Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle ends, and all that's left is the crying.

Shigaraki scratched his neck as he stared over his own private field of horror. The lack of All Might was already annoying, but Miruko being here was downright cheating. Of course, as he watched her soar across the sky courtesy of a super-powered punch from Noumu, he couldn’t help but be a little happy that a high-level meat-shield was here to entertain him. A swarm of thugs surrounded her, starting a mob fight that consumed the rabbit heroine’s attention as the Nomu shifted its attention to Eraserhead. It was almost boring how quickly Shigaraki’s pet managed to be holding the pro-hero in a one-handed grip, and the man-child at the reigns had to restrain a yawn. “Ok Nomu, that’s enough playing for now. Go ahead and-” 

A loud shout sounded from behind the Nomu and was swiftly followed by the sickening squelch of steel cleaving through skin and bone. Eraserhead fell to the ground like a loosely strung puppet. The Nomu’s arm flopped onto the ground at the same time, as the object responsible for the sudden drop embedded itself into the ground at Shigaraki’s feet. He jumped back as soon as it hit, glaring through the Nomu’s regenerating arm as a tall figure walked towards the group he had built, calmly loading a device in his hands.

***

Akira Kurusu emptied his mind. Akira was dead and gone, Berserker was in the driver’s seat, and he would play his part to the hilt. He calmly loaded another round, bowing like a duke meeting their king. “Forgive my lack of proper introduction, friends. I’m afraid I have been cursed with a desperate need for attention when I meet a new group.” He slammed the launcher shut, readying it at his hip as he walked forward. “I am many people in one. The bloodthirsty prince, the blade-born royal, or as I most commonly go by...” Berserker launched the grenade, bouncing it into the middle of a crowd of goons. It popped softly, sending a fog of sleeping gas over the battlefield. He smiled as the small crystal began to glow as the gas flowed to him. “I am the Berserker, here to rage a holy war against those who would endanger children in a war against adults.”

Shigaraki stared as Berserker dropped the grenade launcher, letting it fall limply in its sling, sticking out his hand. The ax in front of the villains wreathed itself in a blue fire, disappearing even as it slowly formed in the newcomer’s hands. Shigaraki raised his hands, scratching at his neck. “Damn, some random NPC is interrupting. Nomu, finish off that hero and kill the new guy, I don’t want to deal with this.”

The Nomu’s arm that had been severed began to flex, growing back in place even as the fleshy remnants raised above the creature’s head. The fist reforming just in time to fall upon the unconscious hero. Berserker didn’t hesitate, charging forward with his ax shooting sparks as it dragged across the ground. There was a distant shout, but it was overpowered by the crack of impact as the reformed fist slammed down. Dust rose around the combatants, hiding most of them from view.

There was silence in the USJ, the only sound being echoes of far off battles before a single cough was heard. The dust fell slowly, revealing Eraserhead still on the ground, Berserker standing over him with his ax brought up in a guard. The fist of the Nomu was jammed into the blade, blackened blood leaking over the metal as the creature looked on. Berserker’s face was wincing in pain, his mouth a tight line against flawless skin. “Damn you.” His ax began to slowly move to the side, the fist sliding across the blade, sending a spray of blood over his face. After a slow struggle, the fist slipped, crashing into the ground, and wind began blasting across the arena. “DAMN YOU!” Berserker stood tall, and Shigaraki found himself flinching as fire began licking at the feet of his newest opponent.

Berserker turned to look at him even as Nomu reared back up. Berserker was unfazed, staring at the hand-covered villain, reaching up to his mask. “Jerks like you are why I’m stuck here in the first place, but that’s ok.” There was a flash as the Nomu moved its arm back again, and Berserker ripped off his mask. Shigaraki saw as a bloom of scarlet blood spouted from the mask, and for an instant, the world froze. A black mask set alight soaring through the air, blood littering the ground, and a fist reared back with killing intent. Then the wind picked up, and the Nomu slid back, as a strange voice rang out.

Miruko stumbled to her feet, her vision darkening as she tried to hold her breath. While the sleeping gas that someone launched may have knocked out the collection of thugs around her, she was hardly immune to it. Her eyes were coming in and out of focus, making the sight in front of her hard to see. But she could make out Berserker above Eraserhead, placing himself between the monster she had been fighting and her defeated ally. Miruko felt the wind shift as the gas began to disperse, letting her stumble forward as the strange man ripped off his mask, and a maelstrom of wind and energy surrounded her. Then she saw it, much like the last time she saw whatever power this was, the figure seemed ethereal, a long ballroom gown over a headless form, with a mask to denote its eyes. Unlike Joker’s, no chains surrounded it. It gave a small curtsy as Miruko’s legs buckled, driving her to her knees. She cursed, knowing she was fated to watch on, unable to do anything.

Berserker was smiling as pain forced his vision to whiten. Flames licked his body, leaving the searing pain of hell with none of the burns. He knew what was coming even before his newest persona spoke, but he still laughed at the familiar voice. “Well well, another hand beckons for my aid. And another who knows exactly what I want!” A secondary gust of wind blew, sending gas and flame into the distance, but Berserker still saw the blood dripping from his hair. Milady curtsied, the sound of metal on metal echoing across the field. “Much like before, you are given the choice of sides and morals. So, how shall we proceed, will we follow what my former self believed in and charge forward to strengthen the heart of humanity, or shall we double back, and break it in twain to rebuild it anew? Either way, I shall get to enjoy yet another beautiful betrayal!”

Berserker stood tall, sliding his ax to the ground. “Do you really have to ask?” The ax was raised to rest on his shoulder. “I am the prince of all I see, and I must protect my kingdom. Noblesse Oblige.”

There was a high-pitched laugh, the mask held in Milady’s grasp lowering. “But of course, to protect all that is yours, and all that you hold dear, no sin is too great. Then speak with me, and let the world know that you shall keep all you claim safe. I am Thou, Thou art I!” The dress opened, a veritable armory of weapons sprouting from underneath, and Berserker looked to Shigaraki.

A roar split the scene, forcing Berserker to turn around, the smile holding firm. “Milady, Tetrakarn.” The Nomu charged forward as the air around Berserker shimmered, and the beast’s fist slammed forward. Shigaraki smiled as the attack surged forward, Berserkers grin visible beneath his mask. This NPC was cocky, but a direct hit would kill him just like anyone else. Except, the fist never connected. It stopped an inch from touching the NPC and began to race back on impact with his head. There was a moment of silence before the Nimu’s head was smashed flat, the beast flying back. Shigaraki jolted back. “What the hell? Are you a cheater or something? What freaking hack let you counter my Nomu?”

Berserker turned back around, smiling wide. “Cheater? Are we talking like twelve-year-olds now? Well then I guess I should use your parlance; you came out here to do a farming quest, and stumbled onto the local Raid boss.” The was the sound of crumbling concrete from behind him, but Berserker didn’t move, taking a small step forward as Milady floated behind him. “So your only hope is to run. Run like the cowardly villain you are.”

A roar sounded behind him, and Berserker simply smiled. The air shimmered again, and the Nomu’s flying punch sent it soaring back again. Shigaraki growled, moving to step forward before a misty form appeared beside him. “Shigaraki, one of them managed to escape, I had to remain longer than I thought to warp the whole student body, but the pros are on their way.”

Shigaraki looked to him before his eyes fell on Berserker. “Damn it, the levels for this encounter are all screwed up. The brats are tougher than we thought, and a random NPC showed up that’s eating the Nomu’s HP. Damn it!” Shigaraki looked around before his eyes fell on a corner of the fighting area. He smiled, running towards it. “But I won’t leave without something to show for it! Killing a kid or two will make this trip worth it.”

Berserker jumped forward, only for a roar from behind caused him to roll to the side as another fist flew where his head had been only a moment ago. He looked up to the Nomu as it reared back again, forcing Berserker to jump back. “I’m getting bored with you.” He raised his free hand. “Feel your brain melt into a pathetic goo for committing treason against your prince. PSIODYNE!”

There was a shout from behind him, but Berserker ignored it, watching as a veritable swarm of colors surrounded the Nomu’s head, before flying inside its exposed brain. The organ pulsed, gaining its own rhythm in its movements, and the creature screamed. It gripped its own head, blood slowly pouring from under its clawed hands as its screams turned to moans. Berserker turned around, only to find Shigaraki with his hand curled around Tsu’s face. Berserker raised an eyebrow before Shigaraki chuckled. “Wow, we really were underleveled, huh? Eraserhead is way cooler than I thought, and this random encounter is endgame stuff.” Shigaraki stood up, putting his hands in his pockets. “C’mon Kurogiri, it’s time to go. I think I need to talk to some people, this game just went from infuriating to interesting. A raid boss! Hah! I hadn’t even thought of that, I need to get a real party ready!”

There was a crash as the portal formed in front of Shigaraki, and All Might’s voice shouted out. “NEVER FEAR, I AM HERE!” Every person who could move under their own power turned to him, and the area seemed to freeze.

Unnatural cold seeped into everyone’s skin. The silence prompting Berserker to turn on his third eye, and he joined the silent masses. Because standing there, in backlit glory was the man that was the entire reason for the battle today, the smiling symbol of peace. But his smile was gone, replaced with a frown of anger, and a cloud of violent red covered the world. Berserker blinked and felt his chest seize as his vision coated in an even darker shade of red. There was a crunch from behind him, and he barely had any warning before a massive arm swung into his side, sending him flying.

Berserker gagged, his body screaming in pain as he flew in a perfect arc over the landscape. There was a moment of clarity as red faded from his vision, his third eye turning off as his body began failing, but it was quickly interrupted as he splashed down into the water of a nearby pool. The world seemed to dull, and Berserker had to struggle just to sit up. His left arm was dangling uselessly by his body, making standing up a struggle. As he forced his body to rise without drowning himself, he could hear the muffled fight continue. Machine gun-like blows echoed through his head as he fought his way onto one knee, gripping onto his blazer. There was the sound of gunshots for a moment, and the sudden explosions made Berserker drop the syringe he had just picked up. He grimaced, using his uninjured arm to grab underneath the water. There was a moment of nearly blind groping before a throat cleared beside him. A gloved hand reached down beside him, grabbing the syringe hidden by the water through his darkening vision.

Berserker grunted something out, popping off the safety cap before jamming the needle into his broken arm as the auto-injector forced the drug into his system. There was a pause before white-hot pain washed over his body like a tsunami. He felt the crack as his arm reset itself, but couldn’t hear it over the loud whine of pain blocking out his senses. Berserker doubled over, using both arms to support himself as he caught his breath. As his senses returned, he noticed how silent the area around him was. Berserker forced his head up, looking over the killing field he had just torn through. A large group of heroes was going to every villain as one of them rapidly constructed a wall around a pair of people. Berserker shook his head, looking at his own body. His outfit was as undamaged as always, but the water around him was stained red. He let out a grunt, stepping up. “Thanks, I need to go back now.” He looked up, looking Miruko in the eyes as she raised an eyebrow. “Our deal is still good right?”

Miruko chewed on her lip, looking him over. There was silence for a minute before she let out a slow breath. “Yes, our deal is good. Tell Joker I wanna talk to him.” She waved a hand in his direction. “Go to your underground doctor or whatever, U.A. won’t be watching for you.”

Berserker grunted, nodding once as he stood fully up. He grabbed at his left-side, looking once more over the field. “Get someone to text Joker a report on any injuries. He’ll want to make sure the kids are alright.” Berserker looked at the waist-high water surrounding him and groaned, his ribs heavily protesting the act. “I’m going to disappear now. Keep yourself safe, Miruko, and take Joker’s number out of Eraserhead’s phone. He won’t mind.”

Berserker stumbled over the short wall separating the lake from the field, tripping over his own feet as he walked to a distant spot he had scouted on his mad dash to the courtyard. An inconspicuous sewer grate, one that was easily hauled up, opened for Berserker’s disappearance. Blue flame lit the stonework for a moment, and Akira Kurusu appeared underground, looking mostly fine, if not for the bruising on his left side hidden by his clothing. He let out a deep breath as he shook his head. “Okay, now for the shitty part of the plan.” He pulled his metal mask over his face, stumbling in the vague direction of the zone he had landed in. He stumbled down the lifeless paths for a while before deciding he was close enough, climbing up the nearest gate. He was in a roughly similar area, but he could hear the sound of distant heroes approaching. He found a nice wall nearby and pulled out the hunting knife he had roughly shoved in his pocket and winced. “Okay Akira, you can do this. One... two... THREE!” He slammed the knife into the meat of his shoulder, embedding it into the wall as he suppressed the scream he so wanted to let out.

He looked over the area he had selected and smiled, it was perfect, the cameras, which were more than likely still down, weren’t pointed at him, so even if they managed to get the footage back, he would be hidden, and he had picked a comfortable spot for his plan. His vision started to darken, but he knew from experience his current injuries wouldn’t be fatal. With a sigh, he let his body finally relax, feeling the darkness creep in from all sides. He knew he was still human, and even with some Takemedic in his system, he was hurt, and the sweet bliss of unconsciousness was simply heavenly.

*** 

Miruko watched as the kid limped away for a moment before she turned back to the class and jumped to them, the small shockwaves from her leap sending water droplets scattering in every direction. She looked at the kids as she approached Eraserhead. Those that hadn’t already been escorted out were being grabbed by heroes and led away, but one was staring after the bleeding Berserker. A punk-looking girl wearing an eight-eyed veil, who was actively resisting the offers for an ambulance while she looked around. Miruko stared because the kid looked familiar, but she didn’t remember any of the students wearing a funerary veil over a leather jacket, and the mask hooked to the veil was definitely new. Miruko slowly walked up, extending a hand. “Hey kid, why aren’t you heading to the ambulance yet? Kits like you need to be double-checked, at least until you can tell if you need patching up or not.”

The kid shook her head. “No, not until Akira’s back here. He got knocked out a while ago, and the heroes haven’t found him yet.” She crossed her arms, looking over the USJ, prompting Miruko to do the same. She saw smoke rising from some areas, others had the lights blown out, and the pro-hero started to chew her lip. “Yeah, it felt like an eternity huh? But waiting here ain’t gonna bring him back faster, kit, tell me what he looks like, I’ll go hunt him down.” 

The girl shook her head again, and Miruko could see her knee shaking in strain as the little kit strained to keep standing. “Nope, I’m not moving until he’s back.”

Miruko sighed, but she understood the reaction. There was a reason Miruko worked alone after all. She stood tall. “Alright kit, I’ll go and look for him. You sit down and I’ll grab you when I get him, okay?” The girl nodded, which was all the cue Miruko needed. Both powerful legs began pumping rapidly, rushing forward. She had already heard the heroes shouting out the areas they cleared, so only the urban zone and the downpour zone were left. She started her search in the urban zone, jumping over buildings as she scanned the ground with her impressive eyes. She zeroed in on a limp figure below her, cursing as she overshot. “C’mon, c’mon, I do not want to lose a kid on a raid we were fucking warned about.”

She landed roughly in front of the figure, and winced as she recognized the kid. Skull mask, messy black hair, and a look that came right out of a stereotypical delinquent manga. She knelt in front of him, and noticed the knife sticking from his shoulder, making her flinch back. She moved quickly, checking the pulse before letting out a sigh of relief. “Gave me a scare there, kit. Let’s get you to the gate.” She wrapped one arm around him, while the other grabbed the hilt of the knife. With a quick shuffle back, the knife was dislodged from the wall, but still inside the Akira. She hoisted him into a fireman’s carry, running back to the entrance as quickly as she could.

***

Akira Kurusu woke up to a bone-deep ache in his shoulder and a repetitive beeping that had been sounding for twenty seconds and was already pushing his sanity to the breaking point. Akira let out a groan, pulling himself up as much as the IV stuck in him allowed. He looked over the area around him, taking note of the health and anatomy posters on the wall. The door to his right opened, and Akira stared as a gremlin woman walked out, hunched over and barely clearing his knee. She was hobbling about the medical area, a large cane shaped like a syringe in her grasp. Akira watched in silent curiosity as she hobbled across the floor to look at his chart, not seeming to spare him a second glance.

She looked fully over his chart, making a few key notes before she sighed. “Young man, you are the second most problematic child I have had to deal with because of the hubbub in the USJ.”

Akira blinked, looking at the person he assumed was his nurse. “Uh, sorry. I hate to say it, but I think your bedside manner could use some work.” He looked down at the IV as his leather jacket rested softly on his shoulders. He nodded at it before looking to his shoulder. It was patched up, and he guessed he would only be out for a day or two at most. “So when can I leave?”

The woman let out a huff, walking up to his bedside before glaring at him. “Kids these days, always so desperate to get back into it. At least let me do my job first.” She hobbled back to an X-ray wall, flipping it on and illuminating the posted photos. “As you can see here the knife cleanly slid in between bone, meaning you were pinned by the knife but it only tore through the muscle. You should make a full recovery as soon as I use my quirk, but you will have to head home and sleep afterward.”

Akira nodded, tapping at his thigh with his uninjured arm, making the IV bounce in a strange dance. “Okay, then hit me up. I hate being stuck in hospitals.”

He felt a solid object thwap him on the head, causing him to wince in pain. He looked down to find his nurse had apparently teleported beside him to hit him with her cane. She glared at him. “Heroes will be stuck in hospitals a lot, so get used to it. Now, do you have someone to drive you home, or at least walk you there? I don’t want you to pass out alone on the street.”

Akira paused, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, if Jirou’s still here she could walk me back. I don’t have anyone to call and drive me.”

The nurse nodded, looking him over. “Okay dearie. I’m Recovery Girl by the way, and I’ll call Aizawa to send your friend up here. Sit still.” Recovery Girl stepped forward and planted a kiss on his shoulder, causing Akira to wince in pain, then he winced again as his muscles and skin knit together quickly and easily. With it finished he let out a hiss before rotating his shoulder, feeling full range of motion return. With practiced ease he removed his own IV before standing up, only to feel the cane meet his head again. “BOY! Why did you pull out your IV!?”

Akira paused, his mind catching up to his actions slower than they should have. “Uhh, I don’t like being tied down?”

There was a sigh that sounded as long-suffering as possible before the nurse walked up to him, the hobble in her step punctuated by the clack of her cane. “Young man, you still have to talk for a moment before you leave. Sit down.”

Akira nodded, sliding a nearby stool out with his foot before sitting down. Recovery girl turned to look at him for a moment, before nodding and pulling a chair up beside him. “You had a knife shoved in your shoulder in a school field trip, and while I can clear you physically, I can’t do so mentally. So you have meetings with Hound Dog on your full days starting soon. Do you have any complaints.”

Akira bit his tongue. Yes, he in fact had a million complaints, but none of them were exactly that good. He shook his head, but paused once. “Just to be sure, these are private talks, right? Nedzu and all of the teachers can’t listen in?” Recovery Girl nodded, and he let out a breath. “Okay, I’ll do it. As long as it’s truly private.”

Recovery Girl smiled, her hands clasping quietly as she nodded. “Excellent sonny, you can have your first one on Saturday after whatever lesson Nedzu has planned. Does that sound fair?”

Akira nodded, looking over the room quickly, making sure no one was nearby. “Yes ma’am, are we good?”

Recovery Girl nodded, gesturing towards the door. “Of course sonny, Ms. Jirou’s been waiting on you in the front, go on out and she can make sure you get home okay.”

Akira gave a swift bow to Recovery Girl before walking to the front of the school and smiling as Jirou was sitting by the exit, watching as a few heroes walked around the walls, probably patrolling since there was a breakdown. Akira smiled as Jirou flipped through her phone, walking up and plopping a hand on her shoulder. “Hey Jirou, you waiting on someone?”

Akira’s first true friend in this new world jumped up, glaring at him with a flicker of concern in her eyes. “You freaking idiot! Why the hell did you go and let yourself get stabbed?”

Akira spread his arms, his smirk rolling across his face as his stance relaxed, the tension he wasn’t aware was being held inside melting away. “What can I say grasshopper? Not every plan can be perfect.” He used his good arm to give Jirou a hug, heading to the front gate. “Besides, it all worked out. I’ve got a meeting tonight, but I think I have time for a quick celebration. After all...” He looked over the veil covering Jirou’s face. “It’s not every day you get a persona.”

Jirou smiled softly, running a hand over her veil. “Yeah, me and Arachne have been chatting a bit. Are yours very chatty?”

Akira looked around the street, making sure it was clear before shaking his head. “A lifetime ago they were. I walked around with a whole posse of people chatting in my head, but for the past while, they’ve been quieter. Though one of them is making a comeback.” He smirked as Arsene shuffled in the sea of souls, a flash of a smile appearing even without the correct mask on. “But I’m thinking my celebration will match yours, so I’m going to teach you how to make coffee.”

Jirou paused, looking up to him. “Really, our celebration is you teaching me how to make coffee?”

Akira nodded, his pace staying steady even as his shoulder pulsed in soft pain. “Yep. I was taught by a man who was so loyal and kind he risked getting killed just to give me enough time to let me finish a job. And he trusted me and me alone with the recipe. So count yourself lucky.”

Jirou paused in her walking for a moment, letting Akira walk forward a bit, before rushing to catch up. Their conversation faded, but Jirou wasn’t simply enjoying the walk. As they made the trek back to Akira’s apartment on foot, she was thinking over a thought that had been stewing in her mind for months. What exactly happened to Akira Kurusu?

***

Joker sat on the pier at Dagobah beach, watching the ocean as the waves came in and out. The sound of the surf reaching land allowing him to let his thoughts rest a moment. A voice spoke from beside him, the whisper of blue flame at his shoulder telling him who it was. “Trickster, you seem to be troubled. Is something on your mind?”

Joker smiled, looking over the sea with a distant gleam in his eyes. “Not really. It’s just... I can’t keep this up. Eventually, someone important is going to figure out my trick, and I’ll be brought to heel, either as a villain or a hero. Feels like I traded one rigged game for another, y’know?” 

There was a sadistic chuckle from over Joker’s shoulder, before a clawed hand appeared on his shoulder. “Trickster, you have much to learn. You are a thief, the odds are always against you. We are a type of person doomed to eventually fail. But, what we do as we circle that drain is what defines us. Will we crumble and step over the thin line to villainy, or stand tall to our ideals? Personally, I believe we will do well here.”

Joker sighed. “I wish I shared your optimism, sensei.” 

Joker felt something pull from his mask, and the claw on his shoulder disappeared. A smooth and sultry voice sounded behind him, oozing a calm and comforting aura. “Dear, you simply must learn to have faith in others again. You’ve already built a wonderful support group. Aizawa, Jirou, Miruko, Giran, Inko, Nedzu, and Izuku. Seven wonderful pillars with which to find strength. A magical number if I do say so myself.”

Joker turned, and smiled as Mother Harlot looked back at him. The Persona that symbolized his blood oath with Haru, and one that shared her comforting nature. He smirked. “Or maybe it’s just your favorite since you have seven heads on your glorious chariot.”

Mother Harlot giggled, the slight clack of her teeth distracting Joker for a moment. “You are a young thief, Joker. You will have time for such dark and depressing thoughts when you’re drinking at your private villa spending the money of the greedy and damned. For now, just live life. When the time comes, you will know your path.” Joker opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as Mother Harlot raised a hand. “Now, now, young man, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough. We can talk whenever you wish. After all, I am thou.” Joker nodded as Mother Harlot disappeared in a small flare of blue flame, revealing Miruko looking at Joker in street clothes, the tag from a hospital still hanging limply on her wrist.

Joker nodded to her, looking around for a moment before he pulled out a cigarette from his jacket. “You mind?” Miruko shook her head, leaving Joker to fumble out a smoke with his still aching arm. After a moment the small click of a lighter sounded, and Joker took in a deep breath. Smoke shrouded his face as he stared at the heroine. “Berserker will be fine. He’s a bit banged up, but a few days of bed rest while taking his meds will sort him out. He filled me in on the casualty report from the USJ, it seems like the mission was a rousing success.”

Miruko kicked a leg into the dock, a frown marring her face. “I wouldn’t call it a resounding success. One of the kids got stabbed in the shoulder. Another one broke an arm, and one of them summoned a big-ass spider demon due to a surprise quirk manifestation.”

Joker smiled, taking a short drag as he moved to sit down on the dock. “It wasn’t a quirk, Berserker filled me in. That was the exact same power I use. That was a persona.”

Miruko scoffed. “So what, you can summon a demon with supernatural powers while being Quirkless?”

Joker nodded, looking over the water. “Spot on the money. A persona has nothing to do with quirks. If your will of rebellion is strong enough, and you’ve visited certain... areas of the world, you have a chance to awaken to one. It appears in saving young Jirou, I accidentally led her to that place, if only for an instant. But to receive a mask and immediately awaken the power...” Joker paused, looking over the world as his ash tumbled into the sea. “It is a bad omen for it to appear so soon. I know of several persona users, and every single one has tasted death and tragedy. It’s a requirement to unlock it. One must scream against injustice, and cry for it even if the law itself is against you.” Joker shook his head. 

Miruko stared. “So that’s your whole schtick? Justice is served and damn the law? Then why rob the vaults? Those aren’t exactly criminal riches. They’re curiosities from a bygone era.”

Joker scoffed, turning to look at Miruko as she approached. “Those are graves, hero, and you’d do well to respect them. The first of the Persona wielders I know of built them in the hopes others on their path would find them and learn. Messages to the dead are saved there, as well as wisdom to the living. Anyways, I’m sure this meeting was for more than me to wax poetic while you listened. What do you need?”

Miruko shrugged, sitting down beside him. “Just checking in. With all the info you gave us I assumed you were undercover with the villains who attacked us. If they failed I was worried they would identify the leak.”

Joker laughed. “Ha, like those fools could see through my disguise. The Phantom Thieves are invisible until we strike. Which is why we’re so effective, even as crippled as we are.”

Miruko nodded. “Yeah, you say you’re crippled. What happened? Everyone leave or something?”

Joker laughed, the simple sound bringing a smile to Miruko’s face. He leaned forward, taking a final drag off his cigarette before putting it out on his boot. He spoke as he put the butt in his pocket. “Even now you dig for information. Eraserhead would be proud.”

Miruko shrugged. “Well, when I finally catch you, I need to know how many egghead psychologists to throw you at before I make you my sidekick. With your skills, you’d be a hell of a hero.”

Joker shook his head. “Maybe one day. But you made me laugh, so fair is fair. They all died, except for one, who left. I’ve been trying to rebuild, but right now my team is running below our minimal strength. If it wasn’t such desperate times, we wouldn’t be out and about without one more member.”

Miruko slung an arm around Joker. “Y’know kid. You take life to seriously. You’re tough and all that, but you’ve got to loosen up. Look, Nedzu guessed you’d know about whatever happened with Jirou. He wants to make a deal. You show up to UA once a week to teach her how to use her power, and we’ll work with you if you get caught. You’ll become either a student or a sidekick at UA, and do community service to work off your crimes. Sounds good right? Plus it means we could have this type of meeting in a nicer place. Talking over gourmet food in the cafeteria instead of on some dingy pier on the beach.” 

Joker scoffed. “Training a Persona? Here? That would be like teaching someone to bodybuild and starting with a four-hundred-kilo weight. I would need to take her to our home turf, but I’ll do it. We’ll meet at UA on Wednesdays at four. A teacher can try to accompany us, but I doubt they’ll be able to take the last step. I’ve never met an adult without a persona that can.”

Miruko smiled. “I’m sure he’ll agree. I’ve gotta hop, kit, need anything before I head out?”

Joker stared out at the water, and let out a small sigh. “Tell Eraserhead to recover swiftly. I fear that this will only get worse.” Miruko left, and Joker was left alone on the pier. He pulled out another cigarette, lighting it up as he watched the tide. “Heh, I guess Mother Harlot is right, it will all come to me.” He pulled out his codebook, looking at it with a smile. “What’s Yusuke’s quote again. “Courage doesn’t come from the edge of a sword, it comes when it’s the only thing out of reach.” Joker let out a villainous smirk as the broken code stared at him from his journal. “You’re next Inari, just you wait.”

***

Nedzu put the headset he was wearing to the side, the small bug he planted on Miruko having done its job beautifully, both a stable recording and the audio of their conversation saved onto his hard drive. His paws tapped slowly on his desk, the original phantom thieves files sprawled in front of him. In the original, he had found one file that seemed to prove the opposite of Joker’s story. If the thieves were a group of eight, as he implied that one died and one left. Joker’s death was quietly reported after a false suicide report and a crooked detective who joined their ranks to imprison them. 

Nedzu rested his elbows on his desk, staring at the files. “I believe I am missing something, but what eludes me.” He jumped up, walking over to his phone and picking it up. He dialed Aizawa’s number. “Hello. I know you’re recovering so I’ll make this quick. Joker has taken the deal I texted you, but has revealed that besides his own power, he’s quirkless. I have a few other tidbits I can share later, but be aware that he can summon more than one entity. When she arrived Miruko saw him talking to a different entity than the one he used against her.” There was a pause as Nedzu listened to a response. “No, the students shall have two days off; if you truly believe you are well enough, you can show up on Monday. Recover Eraserhead, that is an order.” Nedzu hung up, and looked at the image frozen on the monitor, a seven-headed dog ridden by a skeleton. He smiled as he stared at it. “And just what is a trickster, Akira Kurusu? I feel like I have so much to learn from you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my editors enjoy.


	19. Class is in Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftereffects and schooling

Akira Kurusu woke up to the sound of a ringing phone. He cursed, rolling over and grabbing the offending piece of technology before slamming the accept call button. “Hello, you’ve reached the house of sleep, why are you calling?”

The sound of rapid movement sounded for a minute before Giran’s rough voice broke through the speaker. “Kid? Goddamnit, we thought you got nicked!”

There was a quite thump as Akira fell out of bed, but quickly the whispering of Arsene started to sound in his ear, and he smirked. “What? Did you think I was like the rest of those peons? If I had known those damn thieves would get involved, I could have beaten them back easily. Is Shigaraki there for me to tell him about them?”

There was a scoff. “Really selling it, huh kid? I’m at my place, this was a personal call. Gotta make sure my kid didn’t end up in prison. You ok?”

Akira nodded, looking at the speaker slowly playing the sound of his group singing while Futaba shouted in the background. “Yeah, I’m good. Tell Shiggy I’m still good to go, and I’ll have an info packet for him about Berserker and his leader in a few days. Anything I need to know?”

Giran grunted, a slight shuffle sounding from the phone. “Nah, they’re looking for new members, but Shigaraki said if you made it, he wanted you back. He has your pay being sent to me later, so feel free to ready a finders fee.”

Akira snorted. “I have a few things leftover from the case you saw me open, we can work out a deal later.”

There was a grunt of affirmation, and the conversation died off for a moment. “Okay kid. Listen here real quick, you damn near gave me a heart attack yesterday. So, as your guardian, I’m giving you a punishment. Next time you almost die, you call me as soon as you’re clear—I’m not gonna sit here wondering if you’re alive all night again, you hear me?”

Akira smirked, his eyes softening. “What, you get all worried about me, old man? No worries, I’ll keep safe and call you if I’m staying out after curfew.”

Giran laughed, and Joker found an easy grin on his face. Though the joy didn’t stop him from noticing as a shadow moved beside his door. “Okay kid, then let’s meet for dinner on Saturday. I know it’s not our normal time, but I’ll bring some good food. Sound fair?”

Akira pulled a lock of hair in front of his eyes, looking around as he thought on it. “Well, I guess I could be convinced. Gonna try and recruit me into being a heartless salesman again?”

Giran laughed loudly, and he heard a thud in the background. “Nah kid, just need to make sure you’re alright with my own eyes. Look, I’ve gotta go. Some KNUCKLEHEAD just DROPPED something FRAGILE!!!!” A growl rose in his voice. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

Akira nodded. “See you Saturday, old man.” Akira ended the call, and in a flash of blue flame, stood as Joker. “Who’s here? And please, don’t bother running. I promise I can catch you.”

There was a moment of silence, which made Akira crouch slightly before the door opened, revealing Jirou in some of Akira’s old clothes. “Er, It’s just me, Akira. Remember, I stayed over last night?”

Joker paused for a moment before remembering last night. Jirou saying she wasn’t looking forward to spending the night alone in her empty house after a villain attack, his own offer to crash in his guest room. He nodded as he let his costume burn away. “Right. Sorry, guess I’m still a bit on edge.”

Jirou nodded, raising an eyebrow. “I can see that. What was all that about?”

Akira shrugged, walking forward. “Typical phantom thievery. Playing both sides, adopting vaguely parental figures, and netting a massive profit while spreading justice throughout a tortured city.” He made his way to his coffee drippers, starting the prep work as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. “So, normal stuff for an off day. Now come here, you make shitty coffee, and I want to fix that.” 

The morning passed slowly, with Akira coaching Jirou though the basics of coffee making and taking a little while to just breathe. As soon as he took his first sip of coffee, there was a muted knock at the door, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. He stared at the door as Jirou grabbed her coffee and moved to a chair. “Your house man, you can deal with the guests.”

Akira snorted, moving to the door and opening it. He stared in front of him before peering down. His world stopped as the small and furry form of principal Nedzu stood in his doorframe. He stared at the rodent for a moment, and the rodent stared back. After about five seconds of silence, Nedzu spoke up. “While I can only imagine how strange this meeting is, Mr. Kurusu, I do indeed have a reason for visiting. May I come in?”

Kurusu’s brain finally rebooted, forcing him to nod. “Of course, sensei. Come on in.” He stepped back, turning to Jirou. “Hey, Jirou, Nedzu-sensei is here.”

Jirou nearly fell out of her chair, but Akira took pride in the fact that she kept her coffee perfectly stable during the movement. Nedzu walked in, nodding to Jirou. “Ah, Ms. Jirou, staying with your classmate while he recuperates, how wonderful. I was just about to pass him some work, since he is my personal student. I expect it to be done on Saturday when you arrive at UA at 8:30. We will be done by q230, but you have a second meeting until around 2 o’clock . Does that sound possible with your schedule, Mr. Kurusu?”

Nedzu noticed the finger twitch again. It seemed to appear whenever he called him by his family name. Nedzu nodded as Akira moved his arm behind his head, letting out an embarrassed grin. “Okay, sure thing sensei! But, uh, where is the work?”

Nedzu smiled, predator’s teeth shining through the fur. “Well on this flash drive of course!” With a flourish, he withdrew a small thumb stick. “It’s sorted by day, but you will have to start soon to finish on time.” He turned to Jirou. “And Ms. Jirou, I am happy to report that we have contacted a specialist to deal with your new quirk awakening. I am going to try and plan a meeting at three today, so please be at the academy by 2:30. With that done, I will take my leave. We have quite a lot of work to do at the school right now.”

He left without another word, leaving Akira and Joker staring at the door for a few seconds as it shut behind the rodent. Akira swallowed, flashing his Third Eye at the flash drive before nodding. Assured that there were no bugs in the immediate area, he scowled. “Bastard.”

Jirou raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, like he thinks we’re ready for classwork shit when we just got out of a fight for our lives.”

Alira paused for a moment. “Oh yeah, that too. But I meant he thinks I’m Joker.” Jirou raised an eyebrow a him, and he let out a sigh. “He gives me enough work that I couldn’t complete it, do my job, and tutor you, since he made a deal with me to train you with your new persona. I’ll have to stay up for two days straight to get all this done.” Akira ran a hand through his hair. “Unless I cheat, which is viable. If I use tutoring you to cover my hours I need to spend working, then I can come out without dipping into my savings, which did shrink a bit after the new gear order.”

Jirou stood up. “Wait, when did you order more gear?”

Joker smiled. “My dear, sweet, little grasshopper. I had several weeks after the exam and before UA to get some specialty gear ordered, and I don’t skimp when I buy party favors.”

Jirou scoffed. “Well, shouldn’t you start on that work then, oh glorious leader?”

Akira smirked back at her, heading to his coffee bar while sipping from his cup. “But of course Jirou, and while I do that, we have an important thing to talk about.”

Jirou scoffed again, pulling out her phone and began hijacking the speaker in his room, sending harsh guitar chords throughout the apartment. “And what would that be? The master plan for how we topple the Japanese government in order to place a cat in charge of humanity.”

Akira rolled his eyes. “Nope, just an honest-to-God human.” He let out a short laugh, earning a confused look from Jirou. He didn’t bother commenting, grabbing his laptop from under the counter, booting it up with a nod of his head. “Anyways, mp. You have your persona, so now, even if you don’t want to join in my illicit activities, you’re an official member of the thieves guild, which means you need a codename.”

Jirou smiled, leaning forward and pointing her coffee cup towards Akira like a sabre. “You really are just a massive nerd aren’t you. Let me guess, something like Shadow, or maybe Sabotage. Something edgy and stupid, right?” 

Akira laughed. “Heck no, all of the original codenames were things relating to our awakened outfits. Skull, Joker, Noir, Queen, Fox, that kinda deal. And let me tell you, I’m feeling a creepy-crawlie vibe from you. How do you feel about Sicarius?”

Jirou stared. “Sicarius? What’s a Sicarius?”

Joker bobbed his head back and forth, looking over his assignment list as he thought over his answer. “Well, it’s obviously a spider. It’s small, topping out around two inches. But despite the small size, it can still be fatal to humans. So it fits, like you it’s tiny, but dangerous.”

Jirou rolled her eyes but took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. “Well, it doesn’t suck. I could see founding a band with that name.” She swirled her drink around for a moment before nodding. “It’s not awful, I’ll take it. You got anything to do until we have to head to UA?”

Akira nodded, reaching under his counter again and pulling out a remote. He tossed it to Jirou, not looking up from his computer. “Yeah, there are some games in the shelf under the TV, go nuts.”

Jirou smiled at him, turning on the tv as Akira began to do school work on the counter. The apartment turned quiet as the sounds of Jirou playing some spell-slinging rpg as he buckled down and opened the usb. As the files opened he let out an annoyed grunt. “Freaking rat, these are second-year assignments.”

Jirou laughed from her game. “Ha, that’s what you get for learning directly from the principal. Next time don’t be a teacher’s pet.”

Akira rolled his eyes, but was smiling as he worked. While Jirou played his games, he started flying through the work, suddenly extremely grateful. His mask seemed to switch on its own, two overlaying voices whispering in his head. “You were always such a good student Akira, you will do well here.”

There was a pause in his typing for a moment, and a soft smile spread across Akira’s face. The apartment began to fade, Akira becoming more comfortable as he slowly drank his coffee. He could almost smell a cigarette hanging loosely over an apron, and a chiding voice seemed just about to speak up as he focused on his work. He couldn’t put a name to what he currently felt like, but it felt close to home.

***

Jirou shouldered her backpack as she stepped off the train, looking around as she wandered out of the station. She idly touched her mask, the thing becoming a permanent addition to her face after the USJ, and she wasn’t willing to rip it off just to accidentally summon Arachne again. It didn’t feel normal, the train bereft of any UA uniforms on her commute. She made her way to the school, glancing around as she entered her hallowed school hall with it feeling like a ghost town. She looked around for a moment before a voice spoke out from behind her. “Strange, isn’t it? Feels like we’ve entered some strange alternate dimension.”

Jirou jumped as she turned around, Joker smirking at her. She began to stand, a scowl on her face. She was quickly cut off by Joker. “Yeah yeah, big surprise. Miruko called in a favor or two, plus I owed them one.”

Jirou glared at him, knowing full well he didn’t need to give her a heart attack, but she also realized what this was. A warning to get into character. “Okay... since when did UA hire illegal vigilantes?”

Joker smirked, beginning to walk forward as Jirou found herself swept into his wake. “They kept a friend of mine alive, and let him leave after giving a hand. In exchange, they asked to have me tutor you on your new friend.” Joker spun around, leaning over to look in her eyes. “And who exactly are you anyway?”

Jirou leaned back, and her mask evaporated into fire. The air flared around them, a gust forming as Arachne appeared behind Jirou. The toga settled around her form, the spiders crawling up her seeming to stare at Joker with curious gazes. “Well met Trickster, what foolish jests do we have planned for my dear little self?”

Joker’s smirk widened a fraction, hiding as he turned around. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to see, my wonderful new friend. Come on Jirou, I believe Nedzu and the rest of our keepers will be waiting by his office.”

Jirou followed in mild confusion as Joker led her down hallway after hallway. She knew why Joker knew the way to Nedzu, but she didn’t know how he had summoned her Persona. Was it simply asking, or something else? It almost felt like she wanted to meet him, but why would she. And what the hell was a Trickster?”

Joker walked into the principals office with a smirk. He looked around, seeing a hero decked out in red as well as Nedzu standing in front of his desk. Joker took initiative seriously, bowing slightly. “The magnificent gentleman thief, the Joker, is here to teach as requested. For this first lesson, I need a room with a blackboard. Anyone who wants to join is welcome, but only Jirou can ask questions.”

The room was silent before a small gigle cut through. Nedzu was smiling wide. “But of course, Joker! I hope I may allow one of my teachers to sit in as well? I would love to have their thoughts on what you’re teaching one of our students.”

Joker shrugged. “Do as you will, today is history and theory. I’ll have to find a good spot for actual training.” Joker leaned against the wall. “So let's hurry this up, I have an art piece or two to look up.” He tapped on the desk impatiently, the room staring at him. He spread his arms wide. “Look, I know I’m a master thief, but I have no clue where the classrooms are. It was hard enough to find someone who would spill where the principal's office was without getting arrested.”

Nedzu raised an eyebrow but made a gesture to the hero beside him. “Vlad King, would you please show our guest to the 2-A classroom? Since it is currently unused, it should fit our purposes well.”

The hero grumbled but walked out of the room, the thief and his student following behind them. Joker noticed his young ward was acting properly, glancing up at him frequently, but not letting fear show. As someone who he had saved, she wouldn’t be scared of his actions, but she would be curious in his arrival as a teacher.  
***

Jirou chewed her lip as she watched Joker walk calmly through UA. She had gotten used to spending time with Akira. He was calm, cocky, and sometimes sad, but at the end of the day, he was really just a tough teenager like her. But, here as Joker, not the goofy Joker that trained her, but the full power thief form, he was different. He was demanding things from people, he was playing his role to the hilt, and believing it. So which one was the real Akira? The mask, or the man. As they reached the classroom, the questions were put to the side, as   
Joker walked to the board and wrote a single phrase. Cognitive psience.  
***

Joker stepped back from the board and looked at the hero and student in the room. He gestured at the phrase behind him, standing tall. “Now, I’m not an expert in this, the closest thing to an expert in this is my little sister, and she’s not around to explain it. So let’s start with a basic description. Cognitive psience is the study of a human’s cognition and how it affects reality. Whether it be an artist seeing people as paintings, or a gangster seeing them as ATM’s, it will affect their interactions with all of humanity. Naturally, this will have nothing to do with heroics, quirks, or even villains. Unless you can see their cognition, this is all academic conjecture.”

Vald King grumbled. “So why are you even covering it?”

Joker didn’t respond, but the solid thunk of as a knife embedded itself in the desk froze the hero in place. Joker turned to the board. “A friendly reminder Ms. Jirou, this is your class. If another’s interruption distracts you, please tell me. I will not hesitate to kick them out.” Joker turned, making a pair of circles that overlapped. A Venn diagram. He filled one in with cognition, and one with reality, before turning back to Jirou. “Now, a healthy human mind will have considerable overlap between their cognition and reality, while a truly twisted person will normally have very little overlap. But what you and I have is a totally different build from either side. Cognition and reality have completely overlapped, with a being from history or myth resonating within us. Thus the being we resonate with lends us their power. Leading to our abilities. A persona.”

Joker pulled off his mask, forcing dark shadows over his face as a demon coalesced behind him. “So, go ahead and introduce yourself.”

The demon preened as Vlad King stared at it with clenched fists. It bowed deeply, taking off its top hat as its wide smile lit the room in an unearthly glow. “Greetings, fellow thief. I am Arsene, the Pillager of Twilight. The persona of our friendly thief-in-training.” Akira smirked gesturing to Arsene. “This is my sensei, my older brother, and my soul all wrapped up in one convenient package. His magical spells can protect me and harm my foes, but at the end of the day, he is also a reflection of my soul. He is what happened when reality and cognition resonated for me.”

Joker’s mask affixed itself, leaving Arsene to disappear. “And that is the most basic of basics on how Personas work. There is of course much more to cover, how they stack different abilities, how they reinforce allies, and as you’ve seen, how they can summon weapons to your side. But for the rest of today, I am assigning you homework. At our next lesson, I will take you to the land of Personas and shadows. While you may remember what I muttered before, I want your conjecture on where that could be with the hints I’ve given you. Once you have that done, find a training ground here and summon your persona a few times. Get used to using the weapons she gives you, and learn how you wield them effectively. For the gun you’ll surely get, I’m positive that Snipe can give you quite a few pointers.” With that, Joker turned and walked out, leaving the room alone.

***

Nedzu raised the phone to his ear, waiting a few moments as it rang before a quite voice answered. “Hello, this is Inko Midoriya.”

Nedzu smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Hello ma’am, this is principal Nedzu from UA, and I had some questions about your neighbor?”

There was silence for a minute. “Oh, you mean Akira-kun, he’s alright, isn’t he? He just wished a friend goodbye, but then he started a call with his job, so I can’t get him for you.”

Nedzu tapped his chin, but chose to ignore the young man’s alibi. “No, nothing like that, something far simpler. We have heard of a sister he has, but have been unable to find a record of her. Does she live with him, we need to add her to his emergency contacts.”

Inko paused, collecting her thoughts for a moment. “Well, I’m hesitant to share details, but I know she died. Akira had a bad night recently, told me all about her.”

Nedzu nodded, adding that to his growing list of facts he had drawn from the ether. “Of course, ma’am, and I’m so sorry to bother you. How is Mr. Midoriya doing by the way?” The proud mother began to gain steam even as Nedzu tuned her out, instead focusing on his evidence board. It was possible that Joker had been part of an underground gang, but his information was already disagreeing with that assessment. He looked at the phrase cognitive psience and smiled wide. A long-forgotten research field, and one headed by a researcher murdered by a vain politician. He traced the string from her to the mystery CEO of Oracle industries. As he ended the call with Inko, he tapped the string. “So Oracle, what would you think if your long-dead brother appeared in front of us. Would you rejoice in his survival, or curse his actions. I need more proof to make a case, but this is turning more and more interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always many thanks to my beautiful editors. Mystikowl and Beatles, you are wonderous


	20. The First Curtain Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filling in the time gap

Akira glanced at his front door as he looked over the promotional article currently residing on his computer screen. He bit his lip, continuing to read as his phone pinged again. Jirou was going to crash at his apartment again, which meant he had about five minutes to find out where the hell the Shudder of Fools art exhibit was, and if it would move nearby soon. He continued his search of museum articles until he finally found it. It was a mobile exhibit, and it had the exact piece he was looking for. The Broken Chain. The image was haunting. A demonic figure with blood leaking from its face, grinning wide. Surrounding it were ice sculptures, frozen monstrosities that had found peace in death. From the picture, one could appreciate the beauty in the softly formed figures, crystallizing ice forming up their bodies in a beautiful swirling formation until it rose above all the figures. When all the ice met above the demons head, a beautiful flower was blooming, four portraits sunken into the ice. Two eyes, a mouth, and a nose. Akira smiled at the small fox logo sitting on their frames. “So where is the mask in this beautiful piece, Yusuke?”

He began looking up every article about the piece that he could. Some arguing it’s meaning, some decrying it as useless statuary, but he eventually found the one he was looking for. A small list of the various oddities in the statue revealed that the portrait of the mouse had a mooted out portion, roughly the size of a human thumb in the corner peeking out of the woodwork. There was once an inscription around it, and though it is faded now, the author had a rough document that may shed light on it. The original posting of the work had a subtitle, but it was removed at the artist's request. The reason why is a mystery, but it went as such. “When the hour of thieves comes again, the mask of Inari will come forth from the heart of the demon, and be revealed by the mouth of pride.”

Akira smiled copying it down as he read where the exhibit was, only to frown. It was currently in America, far from his reach with his cover stories, but scrolling down the list he let out a giggle at its next destination. It would travel briefly to Japan for a three-day event, the sports festival held by his very own prestigious UA. His chuckle was soft, echoing around the empty room for a moment before he copied the times into his notebook. He could go to the second year festival for free as a student, but if he did so, he would be on the record as entering the facility, which meant he would need a plan for sneaking in. He shrugged, putting off planning for another day. He closed down all the tabs on his laptop, showing his assignments sitting there half-completed. He moved to his stove, checking on the large pot slowly bubbling away on his stove.

Akira stirred the curry, nodding at the door as it opened. “Lock the door Jirou, dinner’s almost ready.”

There was a positive grunt as Jirou walked to the couch, collapsing on it with a muted thump. “I got interrogated by Vlad King for thirty minutes after you left. Thirty minutes. I swear to god, if Aizawa was there, I might have actually been stuck at school until freaking midnight.”

Akira chuckled, tapping the side of the pot with his spoon. “Well, hopefully, a plate of my family’s signature curry will fix you up. It’s got about five minutes left on it.” Jirou nodded, the couch cushion shifting with her head. Akira nodded his head, turning to his curry pot and making minor adjustments. This place still wasn’t home, but with a friend crashing, curry on the pot, and the soft scent of coffee brewing from the counter. Well, it was getting pretty close.

***

The gates to UA opened before Akira as he stumbled forward. He found himself in much less professional clothing than he would like, a pair of clean jeans and a t-shirt that had a smirking cat chibi on it. He had desperately wanted to dress up a bit more, but upon waking up with twenty minutes before his private class, he was left with little choice than the nearest available clothing option of fashion design. He stumbled slightly, his own lack of sleep hitting him in the face. But with a laptop under his arm filled with completed work, he was proud of what he did. That, and the late-night job he took in mementos of trying to find people’s shadows. So far it had been empty of them, but he wasn’t going to give up. He smiled as he reached the elevator, hitting the button that would put him close to principal Nedzu. He held his head as he tried to beat back the minor headache forming in his skull. 

There was a shudder as the elevator came to a stop, a red light above him turning on. Akira stared up as the small screen above the controls flickered on, the smiling face of his principal staring at him. “Hello, Mr. Kurusu. I’m pleased you made it on time. Sadly, with all that’s going on right now, I do not have time to give you a formal lesson. So, instead, I have a fun practice exercise for you. I have moved your meeting with Hound Dog to ten. Your sole task is to find him in the building. The teachers will not help you, and I have hidden all maps of the school. Good luck.”

Akira sighed as the elevator started up again, sending him to his now-defunct objective. He rubbed the back of his head, a small vibration alerting him of his phone in his pocket. He checked the messages before groaning. “Please remember to drop off your finished flash drive at my office.” Akira groaned, making his way to the office. As he moved, he activated third eye, the effort causing a fresh spike of pain through his head. 

As he grimaced at his exhaustion interfering with his daily life, he scanned the ground. A small set of footsteps led away from Nedzu’s office, letting Akira know he would have something close to a path to his destination. He reached Nedzu’s office, tossing the flash drive on a nearby seat before tossing his hair and turning around. He reached into his bag, pulling out a thermos of coffee, and began sipping it slowly. He followed the footprints at a leisurely pace, only using his third eye at intersections to mitigate the headache that such an action seemed to disturb.

The trek to Hound Dog didn’t take long, Akira not even finishing his coffee before he reached a door with the hero’s name stenciled on the fogged glass. He knocked, waiting for someone to tell him he could come in. He paused as a growl came from the door before a rough voice barked out, “Come in, just finishing some paperwork.”

Akira opened the door and walked into a surprisingly average office. The desk was pushed to the side, facing the door but placed in the middle of the room. On the other side, there was a couch and a few chairs. A collection of stuffed animals and stress balls sat behind the couch, a small sign saying take one hanging loosely from the ceiling. Akira raised his eyebrows, turning to the man behind the desk. If you were just looking at the body, you could claim he was just an exceptionally well-built man. At least, until you looked to his face and saw the face of a thin-snouted dog with its teeth bared at the computer. The hero nodded to Akira, letting his unbuttoned shirt move slightly. “Sit on down, punk, I thought I’d have some more time before you showed up.”

Akira dropped onto the couch, tossing his laptop onto a chair beside him. He lounged back, taking a deep sip from his coffee. He waited for a moment as the man in front of him growled once more before shaking his head. “You know what? Screw this! What’s up punk? My name is Ryo Inui, but you can call me Hound Dog. Welcome to my humble office.” Akira nodded as Hound Dog rolled his chair back, showing his casual attire of jeans and a tee underneath his unbuttoned shirt. “So, we’re doing this casually, because nobody in their right mind is gonna be honest in a leading conversation with a mandated psychologist. So I’ll start with an introduction.”

Hound Dog leaned back, his chair squeaking as Akira noticed the brass knuckles that weighed heavily in an inside pocket of his shirt. “As I said, I’m Hound Dog, the pro-hero. I’ve done a lot of rescue work, and I do have a doctorate in psychology. I got it after running into a few kids who got messed up in a villain attack. I froze when I pulled them out of the rubble and couldn’t even comfort them, so I did something about it. In the effort of full disclosure, I lead all my patients and pups in that direction. I want you to be the best hero UA can make, and that means doing anything that helps you heal both yourself and others.” He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. “So what's your story, kid?” 

Akira chewed his lip, debating his options for a moment before a memory crashed into his head. Ryuji sitting beside him under the eaves of the cafe they had studied in. They were sharing a drink, right before their plan in the casino started. It had been a fun afternoon, but Ryuji was staring in the distance. “Man, we need help.” Akira raised an eyebrow, smirking at Ryuji. Before he could respond, Ryuji finished his thoughts. “Like, professional help. After all this, I think I’m gonna look for a therapist or some shit. This stuff just ain’t normal.”

The memory faded, but the words stuck in Akira’s head. He struggled with the words to say for a moment, but he knew what he needed to talk about. “I’m Akira Kurusu, and I want to be a hero so nobody ever has to watch their family die in front of them ever again.”

***

It was an hour before Akira walked out of the councilor’s office. An hour of Akira talking about his current day to day in veiled illusion to his actual past. Though, he did get a few helpful pieces of advice. Keep up the work they started so long ago. Not that he wasn’t already doing that. He smiled as he sat in the back of a taxi, approaching Yongen-Jaya. The cab driver was the good sort, dropping him off near Leblanc without a word. Akira nodded at him, leaving the vehicle and heading into the alleys before he swapped masks to his oldest and most familiar mask. His face lit up as he slid the mask up, pulling a ballcap from his bag and shoving it over his head. With his mask hidden, he walked to Leblanc, smiling the whole way. 

The cafe was mostly clear, a disgruntled teenager sitting in a corner booth while glaring at his phone. Akira glanced at his own phone and winced at the time. Two-thirty. He walked up, sitting across from the kid as he looked him up and down. He was familiar, though how exactly escaped him until the kid opened his mouth. “Hey man, I’m running late, why are the trains running so shit right now?”

Akira smirked, leaning back. “Shadows.” The young man glanced at him in annoyance, but Akira spoke first. “Technomancer, a pleasure to see you decided not to join the failed raid on UA, it would have been a shame for such an experienced hacker to lose his way with a group of villains.”

The young man stared up at him, and Akira smirked like a wolf looking at his dinner. “Don’t be so surprised. There are many people who keep up with the movements of the underworld, and many more who take a close interest at new organizations. I am one such person.” He extended his hand, his smile softening. “My name can be told after I find Adachi and order the house special.”

Technomancer nodded, looking around nervously as a door was opened upstairs. Adachi walked out, raising his eyebrow at his only two customers. “Oh, sorry, didn’t hear you come in. What do you want?”

Akira smiled, nodding his head. “I would like the house special. And make some Mexican Altura for my friend here please.”

Adachi nodded, moving behind the counter. “Sure thing kids, gimme a few minutes.”

As Adachi walked behind the counter, Akira smiled a bit wider and swapped his mental mask. Akira left, and Joker stepped in. “Well then, as I said I would share, my name is Joker. A pleasure to meet you in person.”

Technomancer swallowed slightly, looking anywhere but Joker’s eyes. “I, uh, I heard you had a job?”

Joker nodded, leaning back in his seat. “Yes, continuous work. You come under contracts with me, and I get you what you need. Starting pay is 100,000 yen a month, if you need a place to stay I can do that, but it will be cut from your pay. Sound fair?”

Technomancer swallowed. “Yes sir. Uhm, could I take you up on that offer of housing? If you don’t mind, sir?”

Joker raised an eyebrow, smirking as he brought out his phone. The curry and coffee arrived as he dialed a button, but he gave Adachi a friendly wave as he walked off. There was silence as the phone rang before Joker relaxed. “Hey, G. I need an apartment in my name ready for tomorrow. Near mine and with the keys in my box when you buy it. In exchange, I have an ointment that fully repels and redirects any force one time. From a five-year-old’s punch to All Might himself slamming you. Yeah, I can get it to you tonight. Okay, bye.”

Akira nodded, grabbing his coffee with one hand as the other slid his phone into a free pocket. “I’ll have the house ready for you tomorrow. And to prove this isn’t me playing with you,” He pulled out a wad of cash, flipping through it. “This here is your first month's pay. 100,000 in cold hard cash. I’ll discount the house for the first month, and I have your first job lined up for you.”

Technomancer’s eyes were wide, and he nodded quickly as Joker took a slow sip of coffee. The thief smiled. “You’re going to hack into UA’s broadcast during the Sports Festival. I want a pre-recorded message to play when the victors take the stage. Can you do that?”

Technomancer chewed on his lip, slowly nodding. “Yeah, if you get me a good laptop to route myself through, I should be able to manage it. I’ve played around in their servers before; I can probably get you ten minutes of uninterrupted time on their screens. Is that enough?”

Joker smiled, showing teeth to the boy his age sitting across from him. “Oh, that should be perfect, and I have something easier for you to do too. I need you to find a corrupt hero in the top fifty. One who should have been fired a long time ago. Can you do that too?”

Technomancer raised an eyebrow. “A corrupt hero? I mean, that’s an easy one, I can find something like that in about twenty minutes. If you want proof, it will be a bit longer. When do you want it by?”

Joker took a slow bite of curry. “A week before the sports festival. While I’ve shown the world I exist, I’m afraid they don’t know exactly what I do, so you are going to help my true grand revival, and you’ll need a codename.”

Technomancer stared at him. “Dude, do you think Technomancer is my real name? I already have a codename.”

Joker shook his head, enjoying his curry for another moment. “Drink your coffee kid.” He did, giving Joker another moment of peaceful eating. As the kid put his cup down Joker spoke again. “Look, you’ve told everyone you can find in the underground that name. For hiding out, it’s worthless. My group values our secrets. I have an alternate identity for underground work and our normal jobs, mix that with a civilian identity, and I become a difficult man to find. You need to be the same.” He tapped a few fingers on the table. “I know, in homage to my former tech specialist, you can carry on her mantle.” Joker pulled out his notebook, writing a few notes down. “Here, this is the number to my phone. Text me as soon as you can. Welcome to the family, Pharoh, pick some good curses for me to use.”

***

The class was going to start soon, and Akira was happily reading over the files sent to him by his newest minion. Apparently, some hero called Event Horizon was taking bribes from a Yakuza group to show up too late to save their victims. Technomancer was very efficient, sending a list of victims and their families for Akira to use as he saw fit. As the warning bell sounded, he put the papers away neatly, pulling his thermos out of his bag and placing it at the corner of his desk. Aizawa came quickly, filling them in on basics and the continuation of the Sports Festival still happening, but Akira didn’t pay attention until Aizawa said his name. “Akira, as Nedzu’s personal student, you’re expected to make a small speech before the event. It will be after our student rep speaks, so be prepared.”

Akira nodded, taking a sip of his coffee as he smiled at his sensei. “Of course, sensei. I will certainly make our school proud.”

Aizawa grunted, slowly descending back under his desk as the homeroom bell rang and the class began to pack up for Hero art. Akira threw his bag over his shoulder, grabbing his coffee and opening the door as soon as the rest of the class looked vaguely ready to go. The door opened to a crowd of people. He stared at them before raising an eyebrow. “Well, this is a new one. Can I get a path through? I kinda need to get to class.”

A purple-haired teenager walked up, staring Akira down before his frown deepened. “I came to scope out the competition for the sports festival, but it’s hard when only one person is going to be brave enough to walk up to this whole group.”

There was a pop of explosives as Akira felt Bakugo walk up to speak, but was halted as Akira stepped back, spinning smoothly and reaching into a pocket and pulling out a small vial and cracking it in the explosive blonds face. As the teen fell to the floor he looked back to the crowd and smirked. “Sorry, he’s a bit loud, and I don’t want to deal with him. And honestly, why should we have to approach you. We owe you nothing, and you owe us nothing. You charge in here with force like some two-bit thugs carrying sticks to scope out a class fresh out of a traumatic event. For shame, for hero hopefuls, you aren’t acting the part.”

The purple hair boy had a flash of emotion enter his eyes. “Well some of us can’t afford to waste time making friends and have to focus on entering the hero course.”

Akira frowned at that, staring at the boy in front of him. “Then you’re stupid. I would have died a long time ago without my friends covering my back. Heroes should be ready to work as a team at any time, cooperating with others even if they have a personal bias against them. Even a traitor should be welcomed as a friend against a greater evil.” Akira leaned against the doorframe, looking back at his class. “Well, as interesting as this has been, I don’t want to be late, so if you’ll excuse me...” Akira turned around, taking a sip of coffee before breaking into a run toward the window he kept open, leaping out as he cackled. The wind whipped his hair as a shout sounded out from the window. Akira’s arm shot out, grabbing a ledge as he spun into an open window below him. He dusted off his jacket as the class he just dived into looked at him with confusion. He smiled at them. “Sorry for dropping in.”

***

Akira watched as the crowd screamed. The sports festival was upon them, and his next heist was starting at the same time. He smirked as the crowd roared again. He held out his fist to Jirou, smirking as his other hand sent a text to the Technomancer. ‘The video is in the thumb drive at your apartment. Send it during the medal ceremony. Our first heist starts now.’


End file.
